


Second Chances, Different Lives

by CMBYN_Obsessed



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barnyard Animals, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27407518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMBYN_Obsessed/pseuds/CMBYN_Obsessed
Summary: Armie has worked his farm alone ever since his wife, Beth, passed away. He stubbornly refused to hire help, instead working himself to the bone. That is, until a mysterious young stranger came up his road one night, looking for work.Rural Vermont, 1993. Armie is 23, Timmy is 18.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 535
Kudos: 504





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onlyastoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/gifts).



> The Farmer AU I've been thinking about for months! Barely edited. I make no promises.

Chapter One

Armie loaded the last bale of hay that would fit into the bed of his truck, and surveyed the remaining bales with dismay. The sun was setting and he had at least an hour’s worth of stacking and transporting left to have the hay ready for delivery in the morning. He sighed with resignation as he climbed into the cab of his truck and started the ignition. He decided to grab his headlamp from the house, hopefully enabling him to work in the dark, then be back at the house and having dinner by 9.

His stomach growled and his muscles ached, and he heard his brother’s voice echoing in his head. _You can’t do it alone, Armie. That farm will kill you if you don’t get some help._

But Armie was stubborn and prideful and, most importantly, still in mourning. The thought of having another human being on the farm to witness his fresh grief, day after day, was unfathomable to him. Barely six months had passed since Beth, his wife, best friend, and partner at the farm, had died, taken by a fast-moving form of cancer.

_I’m young, strong and healthy_ , he argued in his mind to his imaginary brother. _I don’t need help._

His body seemed to be arguing the opposite, however. He got back to the barn and began to unload the bales of hay, but his lower back was starting to throb with pain. He leaned the pitchfork against the wall of the barn and stretched his long body. There was no doubt that Armie cut a formidable form: 6’5” and 220 pounds of almost pure muscle. If any one man could run a farm single-handedly, Armie would be a prime candidate. But even Armie seemed likely to be beaten by this harvest.

Armie sighed and turned to resume his task, when he caught sight of a slim form coming up his long driveway. He squinted, trying to determine if it was Jim from the next farm over, or perhaps his brother Viktor on a surprise visit. It was dusk and difficult to see, but as the person got closer, Armie could tell that this was a stranger. A lanky, curly-haired boy dressed in jeans, work boots and thick Carhartt jacket, and carrying a backpack. He was slim and from afar looked to be no older than 15 or 16.

Armie called out to the boy. “Hello there. Can I help you?”

The boy lifted his arm in greeting. “Hello, sorry to bother you, sir. I was wondering if you need any help on your farm? I’m looking for some odd jobs. I can do just about anything.”

Armie surveyed the slight boy and decided that that claim was very unlikely. He opened his mouth to tell the boy, “Sorry, I don’t need any help at the moment.” But then the stacks of hay on his truck caught his eye and he thought of all the bales still waiting for him in the field, and he reconsidered.

“Actually, I _could_ use some help. I’ll pay you ten bucks to help me unload these bales, then load and unload one last batch from my field. It’ll take about an hour.”

The boy’s face lit up. “You got it. Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the work.”

“You can call me Armie,” Armie replied, throwing the boy a pair of work gloves. “What’s your name?”

“Timothée. But you can call me Timmy,” the boy answered as he quickly pulled on the gloves. They were quite large on his relatively small hands, but Armie figured that they would do.

“Nice to meet you, Timmy. Let’s get this load off, then we can drive back to the field and get the rest.”

The sun was almost set, and the two men worked swiftly and quietly as night set upon them. Armie found an electric lantern in the barn and turned it on; it lit just enough of the space around them so the men could work without getting in each other’s way.

They finished unloading the hay, and then climbed into the cab of the truck to return to the field to get the remaining bales.

Armie glanced at the boy, who was staring sightlessly out the window. “So, are you from around here, Timmy?”

“No, I’m from New York City. But, um… I moved to a town a few miles from here last year. So yeah...” Armie glanced over to see the boy frown. “I guess I _am_ from around here now.”

Armie sensed that there was a lot more to Timmy’s story, but he didn’t pry. He was a private man who didn’t like to talk about himself to strangers. He would respect Timmy’s privacy, as well.

They got to the field and began loading the last of the hay onto the truck. It was a mild night, and Armie had already started to work up a sweat. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it into the cab of the truck, leaving him in just a white tank top and overalls. He turned back to his work to find Timmy watching him. He hastily looked away when he realized he’d been caught staring.

They returned to their task, and Armie noted that, even though Timmy was slight, he was quite strong. He almost kept pace with Armie loading the hay, and the men were done within minutes. Armie thought about how much longer it would have taken him without Timmy’s help, and he had a flash of gratitude towards the boy.

Armie cleared his throat. “So, um, I’ve got some chili on the stove if you’re hungry when we’re done.”

Timmy shot Armie a grateful smile. “That sounds delicious. Thank you.” A loud rumble suddenly sounded from Timmy’s stomach. He pressed his hand against his abdomen, embarrassed. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Armie started to ask Timmy why he hadn’t eaten all day, but stopped himself. It wasn’t his business. “I’ll make sure to give you an extra-large bowlful then,” he said instead with a smile.

They returned to the barn and silently unloaded the last of the hay. Armie locked up the barn and nodded towards the house. “Let’s go eat.”

Timmy nodded, eagerly following Armie to the house. As soon as he opened the door, an old mutt came running to them, jumping up onto Armie’s legs.

“Hey Archie! Did you think I’d forgotten about you? I would never forget about you!” Armie took a few moments to give his dog some attention, then turned back to Timmy, who was staring at him with a small smile on his face.

“This is Archie. He is very friendly.”

Timmy knelt down to pet Archie. “I can see that. What a good puppy,” he murmured, as Archie rolled onto his back to let Timmy rub his belly.

Armie chuckled as he hung up his jacket. Archie never failed to charm the few visitors Armie had.

Timmy stood back up, inhaling deeply. “Wow, that chili smells incredible. Thank you again for inviting me to dinner.”

Armie walked to the stove to silently stir the chili that had been simmering all day. He could only cook a handful of meals, but he knew that his chili was above average.

“Let’s wash up and eat,” he directed with a nod.

The men settled in at the table, each with a large bowl chili and a piece of cornbread that Armie had made that morning. Timmy dived into his meal, ravenous, finishing the entire bowl within minutes.

Armie raised his eyebrows as Timmy sopped up the last bit of chili with a bit of his bread. “Would you like some more?”

Timmy flushed when he looked over at Armie’s place and realized that he had eaten only half of his meal in the time that Timmy had inhaled his entire bowl.

“Sorry. I was a little hungry…”

Armie laughed kindly as he ladled more chili into Timmy’s dish. “It’s fine, Timmy. I’m glad you like it.”

Timmy licked his lips and glanced around at Armie’s kitchen. “You’re a good cook. So… you’re not married?”

Armie didn’t answer right away, and the silence was thick between them. Timmy seemed to realize that he had made a gaffe and tried to reverse it. “That’s none of my business. I…”

Armie held up a hand. He didn’t want Timmy to feel badly after the help he’d given Armie. “It’s okay. I just don’t talk about her much. My wife, um, passed away a few months ago.”

Timmy’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

Armie shook his head. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Anyway, let’s not dwell on that. You were a good worker today. Maybe you can come back tomorrow and help out some more? I can pay you $10 an hour.”

Timmy bit his bottom lip and looked away. Armie took that moment to study the boy, and realized that, in the indoor light, he was mostly likely older than Armie had first estimated. His jawline was cut and he had some light stubble adorning his chin and upper lip. His green eyes were somehow both youthful and world-weary. He was quite gaunt, and Armie was happy he was able to provide him with a good meal.

“I wish I could, Armie. But I don’t know where I will be tomorrow. After we’re done eating, I’ll have to get back on the road to find a place to crash tonight.”

Armie opened his mouth to say ‘That’s too bad,’ but the words, “Why don’t you stay here tonight, if you don’t have another place to stay?” came tumbling out instead.

Timmy set his spoon down and leaned forward. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden.”

The fact was that Armie _wasn’t_ sure, but he had already put the offer out. He didn’t feel that he could withdraw it.

“Yeah, sure. I have a spare bedroom off of the kitchen. It’s pretty barren, just a bed and a dresser. Nothing fancy.”

Timmy’s face brightened into a huge smile of relief. “Thank you so much. And I can stick around tomorrow to give you hand. Whatever you need.”

Timmy helped Armie clean up the kitchen after dinner, the silence comfortable between them as Armie washed the dishes and Timmy dried. Armie had to admit that he was curious about Timmy’s circumstances, but it was against his very nature to ask. He found himself hoping that the boy would perhaps tell more about his life tomorrow while they worked.

Armie showed Timmy the bathroom off of the guest room, and how to use the ancient shower. Timmy watched closely, and Armie had a feeling that it had been awhile since Timmy had had a hot shower. He found some towels for Timmy to use, then stood awkwardly in the guest room doorway.

“Well, let me know if you need anything. My bedroom is right down the hall. It’s not a big house.”

Timmy nodded, hugging the towels to his chest. “Thank you again, Armie. Your kindness means everything to me.”

Armie loitered for a moment, unsure what to say or do next. He eventually gave a curt nod and turned to leave, closing the door behind him. Armie went to his own bedroom and sat down on his bed. It felt odd having another person in the house. He hadn’t shared his home with anyone since Beth passed away. He had expected it to feel intrusive, but he had to admit that he actually liked the feeling that he was helping this boy. He heard the pipes clang and he knew that Timmy had turned on the shower.

His breath hitched unexpectantly at the thought of Timmy in the shower, just a few yards away. He pictured Timmy pulling off his clothing and climbing into the tub naked, and he felt blood start to rush between his legs. A stab of guilt cut through his body, and Armie immediately tried to shake off the image in his mind. He stood up abruptly to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, silently chastising himself for having improper thoughts about the boy. A few minutes later, he was sprawled out across his bed, already halfway asleep from pure exhaustion. Just as his brain was shutting down, Armie though he heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from down the hall, but he couldn’t be sure. He fell into a deep sleep before he could think any more of it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy works the farm with Armie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate our new PRESIDENT-ELECT JOE BIDEN, have some more Farmie! 
> 
> I am humbled by the incredible reception this fic has gotten. THANK YOU!!!

Chapter Two

_Timmy_

_Timmy buried his face in the pillow, which smelled wonderfully fresh and clean, trying to muffle the sound of his cries. His sobs were not from sorrow or distress, but rather a release of pent-up emotions that he had hidden deep inside himself until it was finally safe to let them out. And right then, in that warm bed in a private room in the home of a kind stranger, Timmy finally felt safe. He had been on the road for almost ten days, spending his daylight hours looking for work and food and shelter; his nights burrowed in his sleeping bag, in whatever alley or barn or copse of trees he thought would hide him from danger so he could catch a few hours of sleep. He was functioning in pure survival mode until just that moment._

_It could have been either the cozy bed or the hot meal that prompted Timmy’s feeling of security. It was probably at last partly both those things. But in addition to those factors, it was definitely also the steady presence of the quiet, serious, devastatingly handsome man who was currently sleeping a few doors down the hall from Timmy. Timmy knew that Armie was straight. He was a widower who was still very obviously deep in grief over his late wife. Timmy had no expectations at all of his relationship with Armie, and was simply grateful that Armie had offered him a soft pillow and another day of work. Anything beyond that—a kind word, a soft smile—was gravy to Timmy._

_Timmy wiped his tears away on the crook of his arm, and fell into the deepest sleep he’d had in days._

Armie

Armie woke at his usual time the next morning, just before dawn, when the chill in the air could still send a shiver through his bones. But he woke with an unusual feeling of warmth, and it took him a minute to remember the origin: the boy Timmy, fast asleep a few doors down. Armie found himself happy that Timmy had spent the night and was looking forward to sharing his workday with him.

Armie walked quietly down the hall, then hovered outside the guest room listening for sounds of slumber. He could hear Timmy’s heavy breathing, slow and steady. Armie cracked the door open just a few inches and peeked in. His heart squeezed in an unfamiliar way at the sight of the boy unconscious and vulnerable in deep sleep. Armie crept in and scooped up Timmy’s dirty clothes from the floor to wash. He noticed Timmy’s sleeping bag rolled tight against the wall. He lifted that to his nose and took a sniff, and was almost knocked over by the pungent smell emanating from the fabric. He took that to wash, as well.

Armie tossed Timmy’s clothes, towels, and sleeping bag into his washing machine, made a pot of coffee, then fed a very patient Archie. While the coffee brewed, he ventured out to the barn to feed the few animals that resided at his farm: his two goats, Molly and Madeline; the posse of chickens who lived in the coop he had built by hand; and of course his pig, Oliver. His was primarily a hay and alfalfa farm, providing feed to the other local farms, but Armie enjoyed the judgement-free company of the beasts he shared the space with.

By the time he returned to his farmhouse, the sun was up, his coffee was brewed, and Timmy’s clothes were ready for the dryer. He glanced at his watch--it was 7:30. He needed to deliver several bales of hay to various farms by 8. He wrote out a quick note for Timmy and left it on the kitchen counter: _Your clothes are in the dyer. Coffee’s in the pot. Help yourself to whatever you’d like in the kitchen. Be back in an hour or so. –A._

He poured some coffee into a carafe, grabbed an apple, and headed out to make his deliveries. As he slipped through his front door, he recalled the muffled sobs he had heard the night before and he was happy that, if nothing else, Timmy was getting a good night’s sleep. He paused for a moment before he climbed into the cab of his truck, wondering if it was safe to leave the strange boy alone in his home. But his instincts told him that Timmy was harmless. He buckled his seatbelt and headed to his first farm for delivery.

*****

Armie was back within the hour and returned to an empty kitchen. His first instinct was to shake his head at the fact that the boy was still asleep, but then he remembered Timmy’s comments about not eating all day and having to find a place to sleep, and he wondered if this was Timmy’s first good night’s sleep in a long while. He washed his hands and retrieved Timmy’s things from the dryer, carefully folding his ragged clothing and re-rolling his old sleeping bag. He took them down the hallway to set them on the guest room dresser so they would be ready for when Timmy woke.

Armie slipped in, set Timmy’s things down, and was about to leave when the boy began to rouse. He paused in the doorway, wondering if Timmy was waking or just shifting in his sleep. Timmy stretched and turned to face him, one sleepy eye sliding open.

He gave the boy a warm smile. “Good morning. I washed your things. They’re on the dresser.”

Timmy sat up and rubbed his eyes, the blanket falling to reveal his bare chest. Armie quickly looked away.

“There is coffee made, if you’d like some,” he added, his eyes fastened to the wall behind Timmy.

Timmy glanced over at the pile of his clean clothes, then back at Armie. “You didn’t have to do that… but thank you. What time is it?”

Armie checked his watch. “It’s not quite 9:00. I can make…”

Timmy sat up straight in alarm. “9:00?? Armie, why did you let me sleep so late? I’m here to work, not to sleep all day. I am so sorry; I’ll get up right now. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

Armie took a step closer to the bed, holding up a hand. “Woah, woah. It’s okay, Timmy. I don’t mind. You seemed like you really needed your sleep. An exhausted worker is not a productive worker. So, get dressed and have something to eat and then, trust me, I will have plenty for you to do today.”

Timmy leaned back against the pillow, his face still knotted with concern. “Are you sure? I don’t need to eat breakfast. I skip meals all the time.”

Armie shook his head with a smile. “Not today. You’re working on a farm, Timmy. You need some protein. I’m going to scramble some eggs and make some toast for us. Now come on, we’re burning sunlight hours.”

The fact was, Armie was behind schedule for the day, but he figured that he could make up the work with the extra set of hands. He left Timmy’s room to make breakfast for the both of them and as he pulled the eggs out of his refrigerator, the same warm domestic feeling from the previous night swept over him. He again wondered why he wasn’t annoyed with the presence of another person in his home. He was so used to his solitary life--he chose it; he usually welcomed it. But he had to admit that today, he was happy to wash Timmy’s clothing and scramble him an egg.

A few minutes later, Timmy appeared in the kitchen, wearing his now-clean jeans from the day before and a different t-shirt.

“It smells great in here. Thanks again, Armie. I should be paying _you_ ,” Timmy said as he settled himself at the kitchen table. “I’d like to work off the room and board today. You don’t need to pay me.”

“Nonsense. It was nothing to let you crash here. And I plan on working you hard today. There’s coffee made if you’d like some.” Armie nodded to the pot as he stirred the eggs.

Armie thought about the crying he had heard coming from Timmy’s room last night. He didn’t want to step over any boundaries, but he also wanted to make sure Timmy was okay.

“So, are you feeling better today?” he asked, deciding the question was vague enough not to be nosy.

Timmy took a sip of the coffee he had poured himself and moaned with pleasure. “Oh, that’s good. Yeah, I feel great. I’m ready to work.”

Timmy plated the eggs and toast, then brought the two dishes to the table. He placed Timmy’s in front of him then sat down beside him. “I need to go to the fields after breakfast, and I was going to have you work in the barn. I have some hay that’s been drying in there since the last rain that’s ready to be raked and baled. You can work on that while I harvest and bale in the fields.”

Timmy said nothing, and instead looked at him blankly.

“Have you… ever baled hay before, Timmy?”

Timmy blinked a few times, then licked his lips. “Well, no… but I’m a quick learner. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

Armie shook his head. “It’s not something you just _figure out_. It’s fine. I’ll give you a quick lesson before I head out.”

Timmy looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Armie. I feel like I’ve been more of a burden than a help.”

“If you get all the hay that’s been drying in the barn baled for me, you will more than make up for it. Now finish your breakfast; we have a lot of work to do.”

The men headed out to the barn to where the manual baler was stored. Armie showed Timmy how to rake out the hay first, the feed it into the baler. It was an unusually warm April morning, and the barn was already starting to heat up. Armie took a break to wipe the sweat from his brow and take a sip of water. He started to pull off his shirt, but something made him stop and look over at Timmy, who was staring at him with wide eyes and his lips slightly parted. Their eyes met, and Timmy quickly looked away.

Armie pushed his shirt back down, deciding to just endure the heat. “So, um… do you think you can do it? It’s really not that hard.”

Timmy nodded quickly, still flushed from being caught staring once again. “Yup, got it. No problem.”

Armie nodded, wondering if he was putting too much on the boy. But he seemed eager to help, and it really wasn’t a complicated task, raking and baling hay.

“Alright, then. I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. We can take a break and have some lunch. If you need to use the bathroom or get more water, feel free to go up to the house.”

“Great. And Armie… thank you again. For everything.”

Armie gave Timmy a tight smile and turned to leave, saying nothing. He wanted to get to the fields to get his baling done, so he could return and have plenty of time for lunch with Timmy.

*****

Armie got done in the field in a less than two hours, working much faster than his normal pace. Even though it was a little early for lunch, he decided to relieve Timmy so they could enjoy a relaxing break. If Timmy hadn’t been there to help, Armie would be the one having to go to the barn in the afternoon to rake and bale the hay there. Timmy had saved him at least a few hours of work, _if_ he had been able to finish the job.

Armie walked into the barn entrance and over to the area where the hay had been drying. He saw immediately that all of the hay had already been fed into the baler and the tied rolls were neatly stacked in a corner. Timmy was hunched over nearby, tying what appeared to be the last bale. He stood up and Armie’s breath hitched when he saw that Timmy had taken off his shirt, his long lean back was shiny with sweat. Armie felt his heart quicken in his chest, and he looked away in an attempt to calm down his body’s immediate response to Timmy’s glistening skin.

_Get ahold of yourself,_ he thought. _He’s just a kid._

Armie cleared his throat to announce his presence. Timmy turned with a proud grin on his face.

“You got it all done, huh? Good job!”

Timmy pulled off his work gloves and wiped his brow. Armie worked to control his breath at the sight of Timmy’s bare chest, and the beads of sweat running down his neck, pooling in his clavicles.

“I did. I worked my _ass_ off. I wanted to earn my money and my keep.”

Armie walked over to survey the pile of hay with a smile. “Looks great. Really, Timmy. This is a _huge_ help to me.” He spied Timmy’s shirt on the windowsill and threw it over to him, hoping Timmy got the subtle hint. It was much too distracting to have the boy shirtless in front of him. “Let’s go have lunch.”

*****

The atmosphere was friendlier between the two men after a hard morning’s work, and Timmy felt comfortable enough to wander about Armie’s kitchen and living space a bit, looking around. Evidence of a woman’s touch was everywhere: in the framed floral art on the walls, the throw pillows on the couch. There was a hutch next the couch full of framed photos, so Timmy walked over to take a closer look. Armie watched him from the kitchen counter as he made them sandwiches, wondering if Timmy would have questions.

“Your wife was beautiful,” he observed.

“Yes, she was,” Armie answered.

Timmy picked up another picture, then set it down and picked up another, then another. “Wow, are these all the two of you? You look so young in a lot of these photos.”

Armie nodded, wondering how much to say. “She was my best friend. I’d known her since we were kids. We grew up together.”

Timmy picked up their wedding photo and looked for a long time. Armie knew what he _didn’t_ see looking at all of these pictures: physical intimacy. No picture of them kissing or holding hands or snuggling together. Just two humans who enjoyed each other’s company, who supported each other, and who loved each other dearly.

Next, Timmy wandered over to a surprisingly large and full bookcase in the corner of the room. He scanned the titles, which contained a wide-array of authors from Tom Robbins to Jane Austen.

“You read a lot?” Timmy asked.

But Armie nodded in the affirmative. “Yeah. I had hoped to go to college for literature. But life had other plans for me.” He couldn’t keep the note of wistfulness out of his tone.

“I was an English major.”

Armie looked up abruptly. “You’re in college?”

Timmy shrugged. “I was… before.” He smirked. “You thought I was younger? That’s okay. Everyone does. I turned 18 in December.”

Armie said nothing, but felt a strange sense of relief at the knowledge that Timmy was 18. He cut the sandwiches in half as he tried to shake off the feeling.

“Sandwiches are ready,” he announced, carrying the plates out to the table.

Timmy walked to the table, glancing at Armie with a puzzled look, as if trying to figure Armie out. Armie ignored it, and decided that if Timmy had more specific questions, he would answer. But he wasn’t going to volunteer any more information.

The men dove into their turkey sandwiches, famished from the day’s labor. Neither spoke for several minutes, and the sound of their chewing filled the kitchen. Eventually Armie set down his sandwich to take a sip of water and wondered, since Timmy was getting a glimpse into his personal life, if maybe he would allow Armie a glimpse into his own.

He ventured a general question. “So, what part of New York are you from?”

Timmy stilled at the query, and Armie worried that he had crossed a line. But then Timmy swallowed and asked, “How familiar are you with New York?”

“Not very,” Armie admitted. “I went once with my school in junior high, and once with Beth a few years ago. We saw Cats and went to the top of the Empire State Building.” Armie suddenly felt like a country hick. “That’s all I really know.”

“Well, I grew up in a neighborhood called Hell’s Kitchen, which is a few blocks from Times Square. It was a pretty rough neighborhood when I was young. It’s changed a lot in the last few years, though. It’s safer, and more boring.”

Timmy seemed open to talking, so Armie tried another question. “What brought you to Vermont then?”

Timmy looked down at his plate, and Armie thought he saw him blink away tears. He was about to tell him that it was okay, he didn’t need to answer, when Timmy answered. “My parents died two years ago. In a hit-and-run. I had to move up here to live with my great-aunt in Rutland.”

Armie set down his sandwich and touched Timmy’s elbow. “I’m so sorry, Timmy. How terrible.” 

It occurred to Armie that they had both lived through recent tragedy. Of course, this didn’t explain why Timmy was living outside, seemingly on the run. But Armie thought that maybe he had asked enough questions for that day.

Timmy gave a cynical shrug, then looked up at Armie. “Thanks. But shit happens, right? I’m on my way back to New York now, to live with my sister. That’s why I need money. Because right now I have… well, nothing.”

Timmy pushed back in his chair, standing and taking his plate into the kitchen. “That’s enough whining from me. We’ve got more work to do, right?”

Armie followed Timmy into the kitchen, the bits of information Timmy had given him had caused several new questions about the boy to form in his mind. He hoped he could get him to stay for dinner, and perhaps find out more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you've read, or have any thoughts, please leave a comment!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy and Armie continue to get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't had a chance to respond to everyone's comments on this fic, but please know that I read and appreciate EACH and EVERY ONE of them! Thank you for taking a moment out of your day to leave a Kudos or comment <3

Chapter Three

After lunch, Armie had to make some more hay deliveries, so Timmy helped him load the bales onto the truck.

“What should I do while you’re gone?” Timmy asked, wiping his brow with his t-shirt sleeve. It had turned into a very warm spring afternoon and the sun was strong.

Armie jingled the keys in his hand, thinking. “Why don’t you come with me? You can help unload the bales. It will make the deliveries go faster.”

Armie didn’t actually need the help. Usually the receiving farms sent a farmhand to help him unload, and it never took long at each stop. But the day was heating up, and they could get more work done later in the afternoon after it had cooled down. Armie ignored the fact that he liked the idea of Timmy keeping him company for the ride.

A huge grin spread across Timmy’s face. “I’d love that!” he enthused as he climbed into the cab of the truck. Armie was sure that Timmy was just happy for the break, not that he was looking forward to spending time with Armie.

Armie took off down his long dirt driveway, turning right onto the main road. He leaned down and switched on the radio; Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock N Roll” was playing. Armie turned it up and started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. Timmy let out a soft groan.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like Bob Seger?”

“That song is the _worst,_ ” Timmy insisted.

Armie glanced over at him. “Seriously? Who doesn’t like Seger! Okay, fine. Find something that _you_ like.”

Timmy sat up with a smile. “Really? Okay, I’ll try. The radio stations around here suck.”

Timmy began moving the radio dial, pausing at a commercial, then a country song, finally landing on “Rump Shaker.” He took his hand off the dial and began to move in his seat to the music. Armie shook his head. “Nope, keep going.”

“You’re no fun,” Timmy laughed. He leaned down and started to look again, stopping on a classical station. “What are your feelings on classical? A little Debussy?”

Armie nodded in approval as he turned into their first farm. “Perfect driving music. How did you know it’s Debussy?”

Timmy looked out the window. “I know things,” he said. “I’m not just some dumb homeless kid.”

Armie pulled up to the barn, turned off the car, and turned to Timmy. “I never thought that.” Timmy looked over at him and for a moment, their eyes met. Armie had had very little direct eye contact with Timmy since his arrival the previous night, and the intensity he felt when he looked into Timmy’s green (forest green, with gold specks) eyes made Armie’s stomach drop as if he were on the downslope of a rollercoaster. He quickly looked away; the feeling was too much.

“Let’s get these bales unloaded,” he ordered, jumping down from the truck cab.

A worker from the farm came out of the barn to lend a hand, and between the three men, the truck was unloaded in minutes. Timmy and Armie climbed back into the truck, and when Armie started the truck, classical music filled the cab.

“Who’s this?” Armie quizzed Timmy, with a quick glance to his side of the truck. Timmy listened intently for a few seconds.

“Oh, this one is easy. Mozart.”

Armie nodded, impressed again. “How do you know so much about classical music?”

“Six years of piano lessons. Plus, I just like it. I don’t know, is that weird?” Timmy paused for a second looking out the truck window. “It never felt weird when I lived at home, but I feel like everything about me is weird in Vermont.”

Armie glanced at him again. “I don’t think you’re weird.”

They pulled onto a larger road, almost like a highway. “The next farm is a ways away,” Armie warned.

“I don’t mind the drive,” Timmy answered. “So, do you play any instruments?”

“I played the trombone in junior high. Does that count?”

Timmy laughed. “No, that definitely doesn’t count!”

Armie smiled, then added hesitantly, “I… I actually just started teaching myself the guitar, too. Just a few songs, nothing fancy. But I pretty much suck.”

Timmy sat up in excitement. “I play a little guitar, too. Maybe I can teach you a few chords?”

Armie chuckled at Timmy’s enthusiasm. He had never shared with anyone that he was teaching himself the guitar. It was something he had started after Beth died, to pass time and ignore his grief. To try and bury his feelings of loneliness by convincing himself that he only needed his own company.

“That would be great, Timmy. Maybe you can show me tonight. That is… if you want to stay another night?” Armie suddenly wanted Timmy to stay another night more than anything else he could think of.

“Sure, I could do that. One more night,” Timmy answered nonchalantly. But Armie thought he saw him smile when he turned to look out the window. “Thanks, Armie.”

*****

A few hours later, their deliveries were complete and they were pulling back into Armie’s farm.

“Let’s load up the truck for the morning deliveries, check on the animals, then call it a day,” Armie decided. Normally he would go out to the field for a few more hours before dinner, but he had an impulsive urge to blow off the last bit of the day’s chores.

“Really? Are you sure, Armie? I don’t mind a little more work,” Timmy said.

“Nah. Let’s finish up, then we can shower and I’ll grill us some steaks. I have some in the fridge that need to be cooked.”

Timmy face split open into a huge grin. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I haven’t had steak in more than a year. My Aunt Maeve made exactly three meals: overcooked chicken, disgusting tuna casserole, and dry pot roast. It was hell.”

Armie nodded confidently. “Well then, you’re in for a treat. Now come one, let’s get this truck loaded and see how Molly and Maddy are doing. I’m already getting hungry for beef.”

They quickly loaded the truck and had lots of time for Timmy to fawn over the two goats. Archie was in the barn as well, and he ran around barking, jealous of the attention the goats were receiving. Then they walked outside to say hi to Oliver, who was half-asleep in his pen.

“I’m a little jealous of your life here, Armie. It seems so peaceful,” Timmy admitted as they headed back to the house.

“You mean boring?”

“No, boring is living with a 79-year old religious zealot who watches and criticizes your every move,”  
Timmy answered.

_Another piece to the Timmy puzzle_ , Armie thought.

Once in the kitchen, Armie opened the fridge and pulled out two beers, opening them and handing one to Timmy. “That does sound pretty terrible. There wasn’t anyone else you could go live with?” Armie hoped he wasn’t prying.

Timmy shook his head. “Nope. My sister was only 19 when my folks died. She was a sophomore in college and lived with three other girls in a tiny apartment. There was no way she could take care of me. And I have an uncle on my mom’s side who I really like, but he’s a free-spirit, always traveling. He wasn’t in a position to take care of a 16-year old kid either. The rest of my family is in France. So Great Aunt Maeve it was,” Timmy sighed.

Armie took in all this information, filing it away into his new mental “Timmy” file. Now that Timmy had opened up, he felt comfortable enough to share a little more about himself.

“I have an idea of how that might be. My mom is a bit of religious zealot herself. She also had the terrible habit of watching and criticizing everything I did growing up.” He glanced over at Timmy. “I think we have a lot in common.”

Timmy was silent for a moment, but then said quietly, “I think we do, too.”

The boys stood in the kitchen, sipping their beers and stealing small glances at each other. Armie felt his body fill with that same warmth that Timmy always seemed to inspire in him. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to walk over to Timmy and wrap an arm around him and kiss him. The urge knocked him off balance, and he had to set his beer down and physically turn away from Timmy before he did something rash.

“Alright, well, I’m going to take a quick shower then start the grill. I’ll make sure to leave you some hot water.”

_Timmy_

_Timmy’s eyes trailed after Armie as he walked down the hallway towards his bathroom, his heart was thudding in his chest like a stampeding elephant. The feeling that there was something between them that he had first sensed the night before had grown exponentially throughout the afternoon, and was now a concrete, palpable thing. But how could that possibly be? Timmy reminded himself that Armie was as straight as a ruler._

_Except… Timmy thought about the pictures of Armie and Beth on the hutch. They were sweet; the love that had existed between them radiated from the photos. But they were more like pictures of fond siblings or best friends than lovers. They were never kissing, rarely even touching. Or maybe that was just what Timmy wanted to see._

_So how was Timmy ever going to be able to leave tomorrow? With the money from yesterday’s and today’s work, he had enough for a bus ticket to Port Authority. He could be at Pauline’s apartment by late afternoon tomorrow. He could re-start his life back where he belonged, in New York City. But he didn’t know if he was ready. He thought that maybe he wanted to stay another day, to see if what he felt with Armie was… something… or a figment of his overactive imagination._

_But he didn’t want to overstay his welcome, chasing what was most likely a complete delusion._

_Fuck. He was more confused than ever._

Armie

Armie started the grill while Timmy went to take his shower. He distracted himself from thoughts of a wet, naked Timmy with various tasks--seasoning the steak and chopping vegetables for a salad. He turned on some music, first putting on classic rock but, after a moment’s thought, changing the station to classical. As he sliced up the tomatoes, he realized that this was the happiest he had felt since Beth had died.

He thought, _this is how life was meant to be lived._ And when he stopped to examine that idea, he recognized the basic truth behind it—that life was meant to be shared. He shared it with Beth for years, which was nice because they truly loved one another. But there was always an empty space in his heart that romantic love would have filled. Desire, sexual attraction. Those were the things he had been missing.

The shower turned off and Armie couldn’t stop himself from picturing Timmy toweling dry his wet skin, and his cock twitched with want. _Timmy could fill that need,_ he thought, as he pressed the heel of his palm against his growing erection. But then he shook his head at the ridiculous idea. _How can I even consider that about a boy I’ve known for 24 hours? Stop acting crazy, Armie._

Armie sighed with irritation at the entire situation. The unknowns were as frustrating as the knowns. He wasn’t the same 19-year old kid that had been pressured into an early marriage. He was no longer financially beholden to his parents or Beth’s parents. But was he ready to acknowledge to the world who he really was? Even more importantly, was he ready to acknowledge to _himself_ who he really was?

Armie turned back to his chopping board, more questions than answers filling his head.

*****

A few minutes later, Timmy appeared in fresh clothes, his short curls still dripping from the shower. Armie swallowed down the fire in his belly that flared up at his appearance.

“I am starving,” Timmy commented as he walked into the kitchen. Armie gave him a quick once over, trying to be subtle. He noticed that Timmy was barefoot. The fire grew hotter.

“Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes. Will you set the table? And give Archie a scoop of dog food?”

Timmy set about his tasks quickly, and Armie took the steaks outside to grill. He was thankful for the cool air, and he wondered how long he could tolerate the feelings that Timmy produced in him before he acted on them.

_He will probably be gone by tomorrow,_ he reminded himself. The thought was supposed to reassure him but instead made him feel… what? Empty. And a little sad.

Armie shook off those feelings, and decided to just enjoy the night. He grilled up the steaks, watching the reds and yellows of the setting sun. He again felt a blanket of contentedness covering him. Once the steaks were done, he carried them into the house and found Timmy waiting for him at the set table, petting Archie. He looked up when the door opened, and smiled at Armie as if he had hung the stars in the sky.

“Bach,” he said pointing to the radio, before Armie had a chance to quiz him about the selection playing.

“It occurred to me that you could be totally guessing every time and I wouldn’t know the difference,” Armie teased.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Timmy replied, suddenly serious.

“I was just kidding, Timmy. You seem very honest. Come on, let’s eat.”

Armie plated the steaks and salad, and added some potato salad he had in the fridge. Timmy set on his meal ravenously again. As Armie watched him, he was hit with a strong desire to protect this boy. To care for him, and ensure his happiness.

_What the fuck, Armie._

They enjoyed their dinner and stuck to safe topics. Favorite bands, favorite books. They found they had a lot in common, but that they also really enjoyed discussing their differences. Telling the other of the author they _had_ to read, or the band that they _had_ to give a listen to. They talked as if they would be in each other’s futures somehow. Ignoring the fact that a day ago they were strangers, and that Timmy’s plan was to leave in the morning.

After dinner, they cleaned up as they had the night before, Armie washing and Timmy drying. It had only been two days, but to Armie, it already felt like a routine. As he dried, Timmy asked Armie, “So what do you do usually at night here? It must get lonely.”

Armie tried to suppress a sigh. It _did_ get lonely. “A lot of nights, I am so exhausted that I go to bed right after dinner. But other nights, I might read, or pluck on my guitar, or watch some television. That’s about it.”

“Do you have friends that you see? I’m sorry-that’s rude to ask, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s okay. Pretty much all of my friends are married. Some of them are starting families already. Beth and I used to see people as a couple. Go to their house for dinner, or have people here. But now that I’m single, that feels… I don’t know. Awkward? Once in a while, one of my buddies will stop by for a visit, but not too often.”

“Well, I’m glad that I’ve been able to keep you company for a few days,” Timmy said with a soft smile.

Armie looked over at him, his heart suddenly beating out of his chest. “So, are you taking off tomorrow?”

Timmy looked down at the dish he was drying. “Yeah, I think so. I mean… unless you need more help?”

“I’m kind of realizing that I _do_ need more help. But I don’t want to get in the way of your plans, Timmy. I know you are eager to get out of Vermont, and back to New York, right?”

“Yeah,” Timmy said, his voice less-than-enthusiastic. “I am.”

*****

The boys settled on Armie’s small couch, his only furniture in front of the television, too tired to do anything but watch an episode of NYPD Blue. Eventually, Timmy’s eyes began to fall shut. He was exhausted, unused to so much physical labor in his day. Once the episode was over, Armie nudged him with his foot.

“Hey Timmy, time for bed. You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you sleep on this lumpy couch for too long.”

Timmy stirred, then stood up and stretched. His shirt rode up and a sliver of his belly peaked out. Armie looked away so he wouldn’t stare.

“What time are you going to hit the road in the morning?”

Timmy shrugged, a slight frown playing on his lips. “I’m not sure. I could help you with morning chores before I go, if you’d like.”

Armie was able to force his mouth into a small smile, even though his heart was aching at the thought of Timmy leaving. “Sure. That would be great. Alright, I guess I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night, Timmy.”

“Good night, Armie.”

Armie let Archie out one last time for the night, then got ready for bed. After an hour of tossing and turning, his mind on Timmy’s departure the next day, he got up to refill his water.

He was at the kitchen sink when he heard a noise coming from Timmy’s room. He paused to listen, worried that perhaps Timmy was crying again. But no… this was not the sound of misery. It was quite the opposite. Armie’s breath caught when he realized that he was hearing the rhythmic heavy breathing of… something private.

_Go back to your room,_ Armie’s conscience commanded him. But another part of Armie’s body prodded him down the hall, walking quietly towards Timmy’s room to hear more clearly.

He stopped just outside Timmy’s door. The house was quiet enough that Armie could just hear the rustle of Timmy’s arm against his sheet; the moist slap of skin against skin. Timmy’s huffs of breath were coming faster now, keeping in time to the quick rhythm of his hand.

Armie’s own cock was by then stiff and aching. He couldn’t believe his own audacity as he slipped a hand into his boxer shorts and gripped his erection. Timmy’s gasps were growing louder. Armie guessed that he was close to release. He began to slide his fist up and down his own shaft, slippery with pre-come, already so close from hearing Timmy's moans and the images they created in his mind. When Timmy’s cried out, “Oh FUCK,” Armie spilled his seed all over his hand and the inside of his boxers. He bit his lip from making noise, but his breath was coming fast and furious.

He took a second to calm himself, glancing down in shame at the mess he had made. He shook his head in disgust, then crept back through the hallway to his bathroom to wash up. There was definitely no denying it now--his feelings towards Timmy were not paternal or friendly. He wanted him so badly he could taste it It was probably a very good thing Timmy was leaving in the morning before Armie did something that he could not take back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you've read, or have a thought on the chapter, please leave a comment. Thank you!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will let this chapter speak for itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two things to say about this chapter: 1. you are welcome, and 2. I am so sorry  
> :D
> 
> I have to admit that I really love this chapter and I hope you all enjoy it, too. A HUGE thank you to @PeachyPerfect for two more incredible visuals for this chapter (you can see them on Facebook, Instagram or Tumblr). She is so generous and talented!
> 
> I promise to update this soon!

Chapter Four

Armie woke the next morning to the familiar sound of rain pounding on his roof. It was April, the rainy season. The rain was a blessing to Armie’s farm, but a curse to his farming, making his job ten times more difficult. He pulled himself out of bed, tugging on his jeans with a sigh.

Timmy was supposed to leave that day… unless the rain changed his plans. Armie could really use an extra set of hands with the rain, to be honest. Would it be presumptuous to ask Timmy to stay another day? If he was really eager to leave, of course Armie wouldn’t try to convince him to stay. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Armie went to the kitchen to start the coffee and feed Archie, then he opened the front door to watch the rain. It wasn’t coming down too hard. It would probably be possible to harvest a truckload of hay and bring it back to the barn to dry.

“Morning,” came a tired voice from behind. Armie turned to see a sleepy Timmy standing at the end of the hall, wrapped in one of his blankets. “It’s raining,” he observed, stating the obvious.

“It sure is. Why are you up so early?”

“I said that I’d help you out this morning. Remember?” he said with a yawn.

“I remember. And I could still use your help. Actually…” Armie paused, wondering if he was about to overstep. “I could use your help all day. The rain makes harvesting twice as difficult as normal. I can do it by myself, but it would take hours. Any chance I can convince you to stay one more day? And if you can’t, that’s fine, too,” he added quickly. He didn’t want Timmy to feel any pressure to say yes.

“Really? I mean… sure, I could stay another day.” Timmy smiled, and Armie wasn’t sure, but he thought that Timmy looked pleased, maybe even relieved.

Armie glanced out the door again. The rain had dwindled to slow patter. “I think it’s letting up. Let’s feed the animals and have a quick breakfast, then get out there in case it starts up again later.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Timmy answered as he turned to walk to his room to get dressed.

Armie peeled a few hard-boiled eggs and made toast, and the men threw down their breakfast in minutes. After all the animals were fed, they headed out. It was Timmy’s first time working the field, and Armie warned him that it would be hard, dirty work. He was grateful for the extra set of hands.

The rain had completely stopped by the time they got to the fields, and they spent the next four hours harvesting the heavy, wet hay, then taking it back to the barn and unloading it to dry. By noon, Armie’s muscles were sore and weak.

He leaned against the barn wall and took a long sip from his water bottle, then glanced over at Timmy who was doing the same. Timmy was soaking wet and covered in mud. He looked completely worn-out.

“How you doing?” Armie asked.

“I’m okay,” Timmy answered, his shoulders sagging.

Armie chuckled. “Liar. If I’m tired, then you must be completely exhausted.”

Timmy shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to admit how fatigued he was.

“Let’s call it a day. Are you ready to go inside and shower and have some lunch?”

Timmy looked up with a grateful smile. “Fuck yes. I am dying,” he finally admitted.

*****

Armie took pity on Timmy and let him take the first shower while he heated up some of the chili from the other day. It had started to rain again, and Armie decided to make a fire to take some of the chill out of the air. A few minutes later, Timmy appeared with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Armie tried not to stare at the goose bumps on his arms, or the way his nipples stood at attention from the cold.

“Hey, do you have some sweat pants I can borrow? I, uh, left my aunt’s in a bit of a hurry and didn’t pack much.”

Armie set down the spoon he had been stirring the chili with and started towards his room, eager to get Timmy covered up before it became all too clear how much his bare chest was affecting Armie.

“Of course. You are going to swim in them, though.”

Timmy shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Armie went to his bedroom and searched through his drawers, looking for the smallest sweatpants and sweatshirt he could find to loan Timmy. He didn’t want to admit how much he liked the idea of Timmy wearing his clothing. He found an old high school PE sweatshirt and matching sweatpants that would probably almost fit him. He took them to the kitchen and tossed them over.

“Thanks, Armie,” Timmy said and, as he walked down hall, Armie saw him lift the bundle to his nose and inhale. That small act almost caused Armie to run after him and press him to the wall, but instead, he slowly and deliberately lifted the spoon and began to stir the chili again.

_That boy is going to be the death of me,_ he thought.

When he had gotten his body under control, he turned the stove down to a simmer and went to take his own shower. _A cold shower might do you good,_ he chided himself.

When he came out a few minutes later, thankfully past the latest inappropriate urge that Timmy had inspired in him, he found Timmy huddled in a blanket on his couch, watching the fire. Armie paused for a second, just to take in the sight. Timmy heard his footsteps and looked up at him.

“This is so nice, Armie,” he sighed.

Armie couldn’t respond and simply nodded. He was scared that if he spoke, he would beg Timmy not to leave. Instead, he went to the kitchen and ladled some chili into two bowls, then brought them over to the couch.

“We can just eat here,” he said, handing a bowl to Timmy. Timmy took the bowl and scooted over to make room for Armie.

“Here, I can share,” he said, lifting up the blanket so Armie could get under it, too. Armie wasn’t cold, but there was no way he was going to turn down the opportunity to share a blanket with Timmy.

They ate in silence, tired and hungry from their long morning. Timmy finished his bowl first, and set it down on the coffee table in front of him, then extended his legs out onto the table, crossing them at the ankle. The blanket no longer covered his legs, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned his head back on the couch and watched the fire while Armie finished his own bowl of chili. The next time Armie glanced over at him, he was snoring quietly.

Armie watched him longingly for several long moments, enjoying the freedom to actually drink in all the details of Timmy’s face without worrying about being caught staring. He started at Timmy’s plush pink lips, then continued to the sharp contours of his jawline. Next, he took in his thick eye brows and straight nose, and ended at his silky chocolate locks. Every little detail, Armie wanted to reach out and touch--with a single finger, or the palm of his hand, or maybe his own needy lips. But instead, he rested his head on the back of the couch and watched Timmy until he fell into a deep, contented sleep.

****

Armie woke up sometime later with the feeling of being watched. He opened his eyes, taking a moment to get his bearings. They were on the couch; Timmy had changed positions and now had his feet tucked underneath Armie’s thighs. His head rested on the couch arm, his eyes were fastened unblinkingly on Armie’s face. Timmy smiled as soon as he saw that Armie was waking.

“You were snoring,” he teased.

“No I wasn’t,” Armie immediately retorted, even though Beth had told him the same thing many times. “Fuck, what time is it?”

Timmy sat up to peer over the back of the couch to the kitchen clock behind them. “A little after three.”

Armie groaned. “FUCK. I was supposed to make some more deliveries. I guess I’ll have to double my list tomorrow.”

Timmy wiggled his toes under Armie’s thigh. “Would it help if I stayed another day to go with you?”

Armie glanced over at Timmy, who looked... _hopeful?_

“I don’t want to ruin your plans, Timmy.”

“It’s okay, one more day won’t mess anything up. And if it will be a help to you, after everything you’ve done for me… then I definitely want to stay.”

Armie heart skipped a beat. He had another day’s reprieve. “Okay, then. One more day.” He grinned at Timmy. “So… we have the afternoon to ourselves. How about a beer?”

Armie couldn’t remember the last time he had fucked around for an entire afternoon, drinking beer and talking and laughing with someone. But if he could pick anyone in the world to do that with, at the moment, it would be Timmy.

Timmy pushed the blanket aside and leaped off the couch. “Hell yes! I’ll get them. You stay there and relax. I’m going to take care of you today, Armie.”

Armie chuckled with delight, taking the beer Timmy offered when he returned. Armie turned on the t.v. and found a showing of _Caddyshack_ for them to watch, but they found themselves ignoring the movie, instead telling each other embarrassing childhood stories. Armie told Timmy about the time his bathing suit caught on the side of his town’s public pool and ripped off of him as he climbed out of it in fifth grade. Timmy stopped laughing long enough to tell Armie the story of the time he locked himself out of his family’s apartment in just his underwear in 7th grade, and had to take the elevator down to the lobby to get a spare key.

After they had both calmed down from their fit of laughter, Timmy got up to get beer number three for each of them. After he dropped back onto the couch, he turned to Armie, trying to look serious.

“Okay, now most embarrassing thing to happen to you in high school. Go!”

One specific story immediately came to Armie’s mind. It wasn’t actually embarrassing… shameful and mortifying would have been better adjectives. He took a sip of his beer, wondering if he should share it with Timmy, knowing that it could change things between them. He took a deep breath for courage, then spoke.

“Alright, I’ve got one. This one time, my mom was in my room looking for…. god, I don’t even know… when she found my collection of pictures of male models in my nightstand drawer.”

Armie took another sip of beer, watching Timmy closely for a reaction. Timmy’s eyebrows rose, and he regarded Armie for a moment, then repeated, “ _Male_ models?” As if for clarification.

Armie felt his face grow warm. “Yup. Wearing mostly underwear and swimsuits. Ripped right out of her JC Penneys and Sears catalogs.”

Timmy nodded, then his face broke out into a teasing smile. “Classy.”

Armie grinned back, relieved that Timmy seemed to be taking the story in stride. Timmy sat up and leaned towards Armie. “Ok, I’ve got a good one.”

Armie nodded for him to continue. Timmy had a strange look on his face, and Armie couldn’t imagine what he was about to say.

He looked down at his beer bottle as he started to speak. “This one time, I was giving a guy a blowjob in my bedroom, and my aunt walked in on me.” Timmy looked up and locked eyes with Armie, as if he didn’t want to miss a second of his reaction.

Armie’s heart was beating out of his chest. This was happening. He had no idea _what_ was happening, but something was definitely developing between him and Timmy. He licked his lips and took a chance.

“I… I’ve never gotten a blowjob before,” he said in a low voice.

Timmy face broke out into the biggest grin Armie had ever seen on him. “Do you… _want_ one?”

Armie’s brain was scrambled. He couldn’t think straight. He kept staring at Timmy, who had stopped grinning and was waiting patiently for Armie’s answer. Timmy slid a half an inch closer to Armie on the couch, his eyes never leaving Armie’s face.

“ _Timmy_ …” Armie whispered. The meaning behind the single word was lost on Armie. Did he mean, ‘yes, please?’ Or, ‘we shouldn’t?’ Or, most likely, was it, ‘I can’t believe you came into my life and please don’t ever leave.’

Timmy slid the rest of the way next to Armie until their hips were touching, and he placed a gentle hand on Armie’s thigh. Armie had started becoming hard the second Timmy first said the word _blowjob_ , and by now, his erection was fully visible, tenting his grey sweatpants. Timmy slid his hand up past Armie’s thigh until it covered his erection. He gave a light, reassuring squeeze and Armie saw stars. His heart was pounding, and Timmy’s palm lightly clutching his cock was the best thing he had ever felt.

“It’s okay, Armie,” Timmy whispered back.

Armie licked his lips and then gave an almost imperceptible nod. A nod that definitely meant, 'Yes, please, Timmy. I need your mouth on my cock more than I need oxygen.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you have read, or have anything thoughts at all on this chapter, please leave a comment!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy and Armie take the next step... and then must deal with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my readers for the incredible support this new story has received! I am blown-away and so grateful!
> 
> After this chapter, this fic will go on a short-hiatus so I can finish I Knew Him When, then I will return to it, I promise!

Chapter Five

_Timmy_

_Timmy waited anxiously for a sign from Armie, shocked at his own boldness. He had given a handful of blowjobs before, one in high school and a few more since starting college, but he was by no means sexually experienced. However, the moment he had gotten confirmation that yes, Armie did in fact like boys, he knew that he had to make a move. He was leaving the next day, and this could be his only chance with this man. This smart, strong, interesting man, who seemed to be as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside._

_So Timmy watched and waited until Armie’s chin tilted in the slighted nod of consent. Timmy licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. He reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Armie long enough to reach back and take a sip of water, sensing Armie’s anxious eyes on his every move. When he glanced back, he saw the fear and anticipation on Armie’s face. He ignored the former and focused on the latter. He wanted this, Armie wanted this. He might possibly die without this._

_Timmy pushed Armie’s thick thighs apart and slipped between them, kneeling on the hard floor. Armie swallowed heavily and took a sharp intake of breath._

_“It’s okay, Armie,” Timmy repeated. “It’s going to be so good.” He spoke softly, as if approaching a skittish stallion. He grasped Armie’s cock again over his sweat pants and stroked it few time, his grip firm but gentle. Armie’s head fell back on the couch, overwhelmed with the intensity of Timmy’s touch._

_“Oh my god,” Timmy heard him gasp, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Armie’s hips bucked into Timmy’s hand while his fists blindly clutched the sofa cushion. His response made Timmy brave, so he slipped his hand under the loose waistband of Armie’s sweatpants and boxers, his fingers immediately touching flesh. Armie’s cock was hot and throbbing and… substantial. Timmy’s own erection twitched with want as he wrapped his fist around Armie’s thick girth. He didn’t want to spend too much time on this—he really wanted to taste Armie’s cock soon—but he also was enthralled by the velvety softness of Armie’s skin combined with the steel-like rigidity of his erection. He pumped his hand a few times, enjoying the feel of it._

_“Oh fuck,” Armie gasped, his cock jerking mightily, and suddenly Timmy’s hand was covered in hot, slippery semen. “Oh fuck,” Armie repeated again, breathing heavily._

_Timmy chuckled softly, and glanced up to reassure Armie, but his head was thrown back on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut. Timmy pulled his messy hand out of Armie’s sweatpants and pushed himself up, intending to kiss Armie before cleaning off his fingers. But as soon as he was standing, Armie stood up, too, turning away from Timmy, his face flushed and distressed._

_“I’m so sorry, Timmy,” he mumbled, as he rushed away from where they had been sitting, down the hall to his bathroom._

_Timmy watched his back retreat, feeling sick. What had he done?_

Armie

The very moment Timmy wrapped his fingers around Armie, he knew he wasn’t going to last. He had wanted this with Timmy for two long days and, even more importantly, had wanted this with a man for close to ten long _years_. That it was finally happening was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. His cock had never been so hard, and the mere idea that Timmy _wanted_ to touch him was almost enough to send him over the edge.

Timmy grasped his cock, his eyes never leaving Armie’s face, and it was like his masturbation fantasy of Timmy but so, so, _so_ much better. It wasn’t his own hand touching him that way. No, it was Timmy there, between his legs, making him feel better than he had ever felt, and he wanted more, _so much more_ , and then…

_Fuck._

He was coming all over Timmy’s hand and it was such a sweet relief, but also… mortifying. His body shuddered with release, expelling the last of his seed, and when he was done, it felt as if a switch had flipped in his brain. He suddenly heard his mother’s shrill voice, shaming him for impure thoughts and sinful deeds. Rebuking him, condemning him to hell.

_This is not natural, Armie. It is not God’s way!_ He heard her words as if she were on the couch next to him.

_What had he done? He was wicked and weak._

He stood up, unable to meet Timmy’s eyes, and he rushed into his bathroom in a panic, needing to clean up the evidence of the terrible act.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Armie leaned against the sink and a sob escaped from the very bowels of his soul. How could something that felt so good and right at the same time feel so dirty and wrong? He no longer attended his mother’s church; he had tried to turn away from the ugly teachings of her religion. But after so many years, its lessons were embedded deep in his brain; it sometimes seemed as if they were part of his very being.

A soft knock came through the bathroom door. Armie wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. How the hell was he going to face Timmy now? The entire episode, every second of it, was humiliating beyond belief. He turned on the water in the sink and looked at his reflection. He looked wretched.

_You know what you are. Why do you keep denying it, pretending that you are something else? Why do you let Dru and her bullshit rhetoric get so deep in your head?_

Armie had no answer to that, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling that what he had just done was wrong. He splashed water on his face and dried it on a hand towel, then took some tissue paper and cleaned up his sticky private area. Timmy knocked again.

“Armie, please. _Please_ let me in.”

Armie took another deep breath, and cracked open the door. Timmy was standing there, his hands at his side and his heart in his hands. He looked scared and dejected.

“Armie, I am so sorry. I didn’t know… I shouldn’t have…” He stopped, unable to finish a complete thought.

Armie shook his head, his eyes on the floor. “Timmy, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. It’s me. It’s… _me_.”

Timmy’s eyebrows were knitted with worry. “But I pushed you, Armie. I wanted something, and I just… took it.”

Armie looked up then, his sad blue eyes finally meeting Timmy’s forlorn green ones. “I wanted it, too, though,” he said honestly.

Armie felt the familiar electric current that seemed to connect them reignite. That connection hadn’t been in his head. He knew that it was real. Timmy took a step closer to Armie, and his heart began to pound. He didn’t want Timmy to leave. This is what he wanted.

“Don’t punish yourself for something that is natural, Armie. Don’t _do_ that.” Timmy spoke quickly, breathlessly, like his life depended on Armie hearing and heeding these words. He took one of Armie’s huge hands in his own, and repeated, “ _Don’t do that_.”

Armie swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat, feeling on the verge of tears again. He had never had someone tell him that it was normal to feel these things. He had only ever heard the message that it was wrong, unnatural, sinful. To hear those reassuring words coming from Timmy’s sweet lips almost made Armie’s knees buckle.

He wanted to take Timmy’s hand in his own, but he still needed a moment. He wasn’t ready to be so brave; he was still recovering from his last impulse and hadn’t yet decided if it had been his best or worse decision ever.

He gave Timmy a tight fake smile and nodded. “I’m okay, Timmy. I’m sorry for freaking out. Will you give me a minute?”

Timmy tilted his head, as if he wasn’t sure if he actually believed that Armie was alright. He stood his ground until Armie reiterated, “ _Really_. I’m fine, Timmy. It’s fine.” And his phony smile widened. He didn’t want to upset or worry Timmy. He was fine. _Really._

_Timmy_

_Timmy finally relented, reluctantly returning to the couch. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Armie’s head, but putting all the pieces together from the last two days, he had a pretty good idea. Armie seemed to be going through a full-fledged gay panic, and Timmy was the cause._

_Caddyshack was long over and the local news had taken its place. The noise from the t.v. was unbearable and Timmy grabbed the remote and turned it off, agitated. He heard the bathroom door open and he straightened, anticipating Armie’s return to the living room. Instead Armie’s footsteps retreated to his bedroom. The door closed, and then there was silence. Timmy grabbed the blanket and pulled it around him, on the verge of tears. He had fucked things up, badly. He didn’t care how many times Armie reassured him that he was fine, Timmy knew that that was a lie. And it was all because of him._

**_I should go,_ ** _he realized with sudden clarity. He had overstayed his welcome, disrupted Armie’s schedule, his routine, his entire **life**. And now he had overstepped Armie’s most personal boundaries, preying on him when he was weak, taking advantage of his confusion. Armie didn’t need that in his life._

_He steeled his resolve, ignoring the other selfish voice in his head that was begging him not to go. That wanted to stay long with Armie, no matter how toxic he was for the man. He shut down those feelings and, before he could change his mind, he threw aside his blanket and hurried to his bedroom to change back into his own clothing and pack his meager belongings into his backpack._

_His chest ached as if someone has plunged a knife into his heart._

Armie

It took Armie longer than he had anticipated to calm himself down and gather his thoughts. Eventually he was ready to leave his bedroom and face Timmy, trying to ignore the guilty feeling he had in his gut from leaving Timmy alone for so long with no idea of what was going on in Armie’s head.

Armie immediately saw that Timmy was no longer in the living room or kitchen. A pang of foreboding shot up his spine.

_He’s probably just using the bathroom,_ he assured himself. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. He was standing at his kitchen table, debating whether or not to go knock on Timmy’s door, when the boy appeared at the end of the hallway. He was wearing the same outfit he had arrived in: boots, jeans, and his Carhartt jacket , and was carrying his backpack and sleeping roll. Armie’s stomach dropped.

“Are you leaving?” He couldn’t keep the dismay out of his voice.

Timmy nodded, his face a mask. “Yeah, it’s time. I stayed here longer than I planned, and, um, my sister is expecting me. I want to hit the road before it gets dark. It will easier to catch a ride to the bus station.”

Armie’s brain was going a million miles a minute, and he tried to land on one coherent thought. Timmy had planned on staying to help him the next day. That he was leaving today could only mean one thing: Armie had scared him off. Should he try to convince him to stay? Was there even anything he _could_ say that would convince him not to leave? But it was Timmy’s choice; if he wanted to go, Armie shouldn’t hold him back.

Armie glanced at Timmy, but he found it too painful for him to look him in the eye. He instead stared at the kitchen wall behind Timmy. “You don’t have to find a ride, Timmy. I can drive you to the bus stop. It might start raining again.”

Timmy shrugged noncommittally. “If you don’t mind?”

Armie nodded. “Let me pay you for this morning. I’ll pay you double since it was such hard work and we couldn’t get any work done this afternoon.” He turned to go to his bedroom to get his keys and wallet to pay Timmy. He blinked away a few tears that had suddenly appeared in his eyes.

_Get a fucking grip,_ he chided himself.

He came back to the kitchen table and counted out $60 for Timmy. As he handed the money over, he decided to make one last, pathetic bid to get Timmy to stay. “I hope you’re not leaving because of me, Timmy. I... I don’t want you to go tonight.”

Timmy returned Armie’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. His face was full of conflict. For a brief moment, Armie was sure that Timmy would change his mind and say he would stay, but instead, Timmy drew a deep breath and replied, “It’s not because of you, Armie. I just need to move on.”

It was a thirty-minute drive to the bus station, and the men endured it in tortured silence. Armie pulled up to the front of the station to let Timmy out and, after a second of uncertainty, got out of the truck with him.

“What time is the next bus to New York?” he asked, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

Timmy squinted up at the bus schedule that was posted on the wall outside the station. “Forty-five minutes. Enough time for me to get a sandwich from the cafeteria and use the restroom.”

“Do you… want me to stay and keep you company?” Armie wasn’t sure if he wanted Timmy to say yes or no. He dreaded leaving Timmy behind, but another 45 minutes of awkward silence might kill him.

Timmy shook his head no. “I’ll be alright. I’m sure you have things to take care of at the farm. Give Archie and Molly and Maddy a hug good-bye for me.” His voice suddenly broke. “I forgot to say goodbye to them.”

“I will. I will do that, Timmy.” Armie felt that his heart was literally being torn apart. Without thinking, he stepped forward and enveloped Timmy in his arms, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You don’t have to do this, Timmy,” he said, his voice muffled by Timmy’s curls. “You don’t have to go.”

_Timmy_

_Timmy stiffened, at first resisting Armie’s embrace. But he wasn’t strong enough to keep up the fight, and eventually he sighed into Armie’s broad chest, clutching his shirt like a drowning man might grip a life raft. Being so close to Armie, smelling his masculine scent and basking in his body heat, suddenly threw all his decisions into flux. He turned over Armie’s words again and again in his mind, considering them, wanting to believe them but unsure if he should. He pulled back to look into Armie’s eyes, to see if he could find the truth somewhere on his face. Armie’s eyes were a winter storm of anguish._

_“Don’t go,” he whispered._

_The pain he heard in those words broke the last of Timmy’s stubborn resolve. He finally gave in to what he really wanted but feared was the wrong choice for Armie. He lifted his face towards Armie’s and felt him still with anticipation--an intake of breath and then no exhale. Timmy gathered his nerves and closed the space between them, finally pressing his lips to Armie’s in an expression of pure trust—trust that this was what Armie wanted and this was what was right. That he was not making this leap alone and that Armie would be there to catch him on the way down._

_All his doubts were erased when Armie’s mouth melted into his, and Armie pulled Timmy even closer against his solid form. The kiss shot an electric current of want through Timmy's entire body. He couldn’t believe how soft Armie’s lips and tongue were, and he wished that he could kiss him forever. They connected for only a few seconds, much too short of a time, before the reality of the bus station intruded on their moment when the loudspeaker suddenly blared that the Downtown line was arriving in dock 12. Armie pulled back from Timmy, his face relieved but a slight shadow of concern remained._

_“You’re going to stay?” he asked hesitantly, as if he couldn’t bear to hear the answer._

_Timmy took his hand and squeezed. “I will. If you will still have me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you have read, or have any thoughts at all about this chapter, please leave a comment!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy returns to the farm with Armie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Farmie is back! I am as happy as all of you. I love the boys cavorting with the animals and hay. Enjoy!

Chapter Six

“You’re going to stay?” Armie asked hesitantly, trying not to give in to the hope that was blooming in his chest before he was sure of Timmy’s feelings.

Timmy took his hand and squeezed. “I will. If you will still have me.”

Armie gave a curt nod. “Timmy, you can stay as long as you want. I mean that.”

There was so much more that Armie wanted to say, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come. Armie reminded himself that Timmy was staying and that there would be plenty of time for whatever else he needed to express eventually.

Timmy’s face suddenly clouded with concern and he looked down. “I just don’t want to complicate your life, Armie.”

Armie tipped up Timmy’s chin with a single finger, meeting Timmy’s worried eyes with his own. He took a deep breath, unsure how much of his truth was going to spill out.

“You’re not complicating my life, Timmy. You’re a huge help and I… I like having you around.”

Timmy face’s relaxed at Armie’s reassurance and he allowed himself a small smile. “You do? Okay, well then… I will be sure to pull my weight, I promise. I can even cook sometimes if you’d like. Whatever you need, Armie.”

Timmy was so obviously relieved and eager, like a newly adopted puppy, that Armie had to chuckle. A huge weight had lifted from his chest, replaced by a feeling of almost giddiness, a sensation that Armie had not had in years.

“Sounds good. Now come on, let’s pick up a pizza and take it back to the house. I’m starving.” He realized that he was still holding Timmy’s hand in his own. He squeezed it again, then brought it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the knuckles of Timmy’s hand. He let go of Timmy’s hand with a smile, and turned to the climb back into the cab of the truck. Timmy threw his duffle into the back and climbed in beside him.

“I only eat cheese pizza. Or ham and pineapple,” Timmy announced as he buckled his seatbelt.

“ _What_? You have terrible taste in pizza, Timmy. We’ll have to work on that,” Armie laughed as he started the truck.

*****

Timmy held the hot pizza on his lap for the drive back to the farm. As Armie steered the truck onto the highway, he clicked on the radio to the classical station and glanced over at Timmy.

“Handel,” Timmy answered without Armie having to say a word.

“If you say so,” Armie replied with a grin, and they settled into a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, both lost in their own private thoughts as a concerto played in the background. As he pulled onto the dirt road that led to the farm, Armie noticed Timmy’s face light up and his body straightened in anticipation. Armie said nothing, but his heart warmed, knowing that Timmy was pleased to be returning to his home.

Armie parked in front of the house and he took the pizza from Timmy so he could grab his duffel. 

“Is it okay if I walk over to the barn to say hi to Molly and Madeleine before dinner?” Timmy asked. “I felt terrible that I left without saying goodbye.”

Armie felt that tug to his heart again. “Of course. Throw your bag on the stoop and I’ll take it in. Say hi to Oliver, too. He feels neglected sometimes.”

Timmy laughed at that, throwing his bag down then taking off in a jog through the property to the barn where the animals were sleeping. As Armie watched his form lope across the grass, part of him was tempted to put down the pizza and run after him. Instead, he headed inside, setting the pizza down on the counter, then bringing in Timmy’s bag and tossing it on the couch.

Timmy still hadn’t returned by the time Armie had washed his hands and taken out plates for the pizza. After the briefest moment of hesitation, he finally gave in to his urge and walked over to the barn to see what Timmy was up to.

He found Timmy inside the goat pen, sitting amid the straw that covered the floor of the barn. Maddie was snuggled up against his side fast asleep, while Molly was sitting on her haunches between his outstretched legs. He heard Timmy speaking soft words to her as he pet her head.

“You’re such a pretty girl, Molly. You know that, don’t you? Yes, you know what a pretty girl you are.”

“She is pretty vain,” Armie laughed as he walked towards the pen. “The pizza is getting cold.”

“Sorry. Molly was very demanding of my attention.” Timmy pushed to standing and both goats popped up, bleating at the disturbance. Timmy leaned down to pet them both one last time. “I’ll be back,” he assured them.

“You can feed them in the morning, if you’d like,” Armie offered.

Timmy grinned as they left the barn. “I _would_ like that.”

*****

As the boys settled in at the table to eat their half-cheese/half-sausage pizza, Archie fast asleep at their legs under the table, a thought occurred to Armie. “Hey, do you need to call your sister and let her know you’re not coming?”

Timmy gave a small shrug then glanced up at Armie guiltily. “She, um… didn’t know I was coming.”

Armie’s looked up at Timmy, confused. “But… you _were_ going to your sister’s place. Right?”

Timmy flushed, feeling caught in his half-lie. “Yes. So… she said I could crash at her place anytime when I finally made it to New York. But only temporarily. She still lives with roommates, so it would definitely have to be a short-term situation.”

Armie face wrinkled with concern. “And then what would you do?”

Timmy shrugged one shoulder. “Figure it out, like I always do. Stay at my friend Will’s place for a few nights; maybe stay at a hostel for a while. Things always work out.”

Armie set down his pizza, his demeanor suddenly serious and his words were harsh. “Like when you sleeping in alleyways last week? That isn’t things ‘working out,’ Timmy.”

Timmy winced at his tone, so Armie softened his voice. “Timmy, I know I said it before, but remember--you can stay here as long as you need. Until you save enough money to be safe and can afford a place on your own. I don’t want you on the street again, especially not in the city.”

Timmy nodded, smiling but something in his eyes were a little sad. “Thank you, Armie. I appreciate that. I’ll stay until I have enough money for my own place.”

*****

After dinner, Armie made a fire while Timmy cracked open two beers for them. They settled on the couch with their drinks, and the memory of what had happened between the two of them earlier that day seemed to emerge. Timmy took a sip and turned to Armie, having a sudden need to clear the air.

“Hey, about this afternoon, Armie. I am _so sorry_ that I…”

Armie held up his hand to stop Timmy from continuing. “Timmy. It’s okay. Really. I don’t mind that it happened.”

Timmy sat up straight, pivoting his entire body so that he was completing facing Armie. “You don’t? Are you sure?”

Armie licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I’m sure. And… maybe I wouldn’t mind it happening again. Eventually. But I think we need to slow things down a bit. This is all new to me.”

Timmy nodded eagerly. “Totally. We can do that. Whatever you need, Armie.” And he took another sip of beer, hiding his smile in the lip of the bottle.

Armie leaned his head back on the couch, working to accept his current reality which felt too good to be true. He scooted a few inches closer to Timmy on the couch until their thighs and hips were pressed together. Timmy let his head fall against Armie’s shoulder and they watched the fire in relaxed silence. A few minutes later, Timmy’s head grew heavy on Armie’s shoulder and he began to lightly snore. Armie gently shifted his body and let Timmy re-settle into the crook of his arm. Eventually his own eyelids fell shut and he drifted off into a deep, happy slumber.

A few hours later, Armie woke up with a crick in his neck. Timmy had snuggled deep into Armie’s chest, one arm tucked under his back, the other flung over his stomach. Armie hated to wake him, but it was late and they had a lot to do the next day. They needed to get a good night’s sleep in their actual beds.

“Timmy. Hey Timmy, time for bed,” he whispered, rubbing Timmy’s back. Timmy began to rouse, but then burrowed deeper into Armie’s chest. Armie chuckled and tried again.

“Timmy, we have a long day tomorrow. You’ve got to get up. Come on.”

Timmy finally opened an eye, tilting his head up to Armie’s face and smiling. “Sorry. How long was I out for?”

“I fell asleep, too. We were both asleep for a few hours. It’s almost midnight, and we need to be up in a little over six hours. We have a lot to do tomorrow to make up for today.”

Timmy pulled himself to standing and stretched his long arms high above his head. His shirt pulled up to reveal his torso and, for once, Armie didn’t look away. He allowed himself a second to appreciate Timmy’s thin but firm abs before he let his arms fall to his side.

Timmy looked down at Armie on the couch. “Thanks for everything, Armie. Again. I’m going to work my ass off for you tomorrow.”

Armie stood and pulled Timmy into a quick, awkward hug. It felt good to have him in his arms and he wanted to stay in that moment for much longer, but he knew the temptation to take it further would be too great. He released the boy.

“Night, Timmy. See you in the morning, bright and early.” With a nod, Armie turned and went to his own bedroom. He closed the door behind him and sat on his bed with a heavy sigh, listening for the sound of Timmy making his way down the hallway in the opposite direction to the guest room. There was silence instead, and then a soft knock on Armie’s door.

Armie's heart skipped at the sound, surprised--but also not--at Timmy's courage. He stood up and opened the door to find a slightly embarrassed Timmy standing there with his duffel.

Timmy bit his bottom lip and gave Armie an apologetic puppy dog look. “I was thinking… maybe I could, you know, sleep in your room tonight?”

Armie tried to put on a stern expression. Once again, he had to be the strong one. “I don’t know, Timmy. We had said we would take things slow…..”

“I won’t try anything, Armie,” Timmy quickly interjected. “I promise. I just… I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Timmy stared at Armie, silently beseeching him consider his request. Armie looked back at Timmy’s beautiful, pleading face and felt his resolve quickly crumble.

“I guess it’s alright. We just have to, you know,” Armie paused, then chuckled awkwardly. “Show more restraint than we did this afternoon.”

Timmy’s face broke it a huge grin. “Of course! We can do that. _I_ can do that. Hands and mouths to ourselves.”

Armie shook his head at Timmy, but he was smiling. “Alright. Well, let’s brush our teeth and get to bed. And go _right_ to sleep. Dawn will be here before we know it.”

Timmy threw down his bag and began rummaging through it for his toothbrush. Armie went to his private bathroom and began brushing his teeth. Timmy came in and their eyes met in the mirror.

“Is this ok or should I go to the other bathroom?”

Armie turned on the water and spat. “This is fine, Timmy. We’re sharing a bed; we can share a bathroom.”

Armie returned to his room and pulled off his jeans and flannel. After a moment’s consideration, he kept on his t-shirt and boxers, even though he usually slept naked. He crawled into bed, and scooted over to make room for Timmy, his heart suddenly pounding in anticipation.

Timmy appeared in the bedroom doorway, clad in only his boxers. Armie’s stomach fluttered at the sight of his beautiful bare torso and he willed his body to calm down, thinking of his decision to take things slow. Timmy flicked off the light and a moment later, Armie felt the bed shift as he crawled in.

Despite Armie’s bed being quite huge, Timmy’s back was still immediately pressed against Armie. He held his breath for a moment, waiting to get used to the proximity of the boy, when he heard a whisper.

“Will you hold me, Armie? I don’t want to do anything, I just want you to hold me like you did on the couch.” Timmy pushed his body back, so he was even closer.

Armie couldn’t say no. He rolled over and gathered Timmy’s warm, slight form in his arms, and it just felt… right. Timmy snuggled back so their bodies were completely flush and his ass was pressing firmly against Armie’s cock. It was too much to ignore. A swell of blood rushed between his legs and his dick gave a hard twitch as it started to fill.

“I’m sorry, Timmy. It’s just…”

“It’s okay, Armie. I understand. It doesn’t mean we have to do anything. ‘night.”

Armie sighed, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to roll his hips into Timmy’s firm ass. It was going to be a long night, but he was determined to do the right thing.

“Good night, Timmy.”

Timmy’s breath was already starting to slow and deepen as he fell asleep in Armie’s embrace. Armie squeezed his eyes shut, willing his erection to go down. He brushed his lips against Timmy’s curls and wondered once again at the miracle that had brought the boy to his farm. Eventually, his erection softened and his body gave in to sleep, as well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you have read or have any thoughts at all on the chapter, please leave a comment! Thank you for you support! xoxox


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I kind of love this chapter. That's it, that's the summary. Just a bit of Farmie (light) smut followed by Farmie fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been neglecting my work the last few days, working on my one-shot and this chapter. But when inspiration hits, you can't ignore it.
> 
> A bit of fic trivia: the farmer and his wife who were an attorney and book editor in Brooklyn are based on my childhood best friend who left the city to farm. She and her husband now run a very successful farm in Vermont. Her family lived across the street from me growing up, and had two goats, Molly and Madeleine, who I loved to go visit :)
> 
> As always, thank you to all my readers for your continued support! I appreciate all of you so much!

Chapter Seven

Armie woke, as he usually did, right before his alarm went off. He had slept incredibly well the night before, and the warm body tucked in his arms told him why. Even though his bladder was painfully full, he lay with Timmy in his arms for another minute, enjoying the peacefulness and innocent joy of having him snuggled against his chest.

_I could easily do this every night,_ he thought. But Timmy would want to leave eventually. His heart--and his sister--were in New York City. He wasn’t meant to live on a farm with some hick farmer for the rest of his life.

Armie pressed the softest kiss to the top of Timmy’s head, and then slipped out of the bed to piss. Timmy appeared to still be sleeping when he returned, but once Armie was back under the warm covers, Timmy wrapped his arms around his torso and pulled him close. He laid his head on Armie’s chest and let one leg fall over Armie’s thighs so that his pelvis was pressed against Armie’s hip.

“Five more minutes?” he mumbled. Armie chuckled softly in the dark.

“Yes, you have five more minutes.”

Timmy didn’t respond, but gave a happy murmur and gently rolled his hips into Armie’s side. Armie suddenly realized that Timmy was in possession of some impressive morning wood. He had never seen Timmy’s cock, or even felt it with his hands, but he certainly felt it now. The knowledge that Timmy was hard made Armie’s stomach roll and his own penis perk up with interest. He knew that they would be in dangerous territory if they ended up both hard, half naked in bed.

“I think I might get up and make coffee,” he whispered, realizing that physically leaving the bed was his only recourse.

Timmy grip on Armie tightened. “No, not yet. Please stay with me, Armie,” he begged quietly.

And how could Armie say no to that?

He sighed and relaxed back onto the bed. For a moment, Timmy was motionless and Armie wondered if he had fallen back asleep. But his erection was still full, and a few seconds later, Armie felt Timmy’s pelvis begin to very slowly thrust into Armie’s thigh.

“Timmy…” Armie warned, his voice hoarse because the situation was a _lot_ for him. He longed to reach down and feel the thickness of Timmy’s erection, but he had carefully constructed boundaries for the two of them, meant to protect Armie from himself.

Timmy’s body went still, but then he whispered pleadingly, “It’s not wrong, Armie. Feeling good isn’t wrong. You need to learn that and let go of your guilt.”

His words cut deeply into Armie because he _did_ feel guilt, for no reason other than that was what he was raised to feel. He repeated Timmy’s words to himself: _Feeling good isn’t wrong. Feeling good isn’t wrong_.

He took a deep breath, then murmured softly into Timmy’s hair, “You’re right. You don’t have to stop.”

Timmy said nothing, but his thrusts against Armie grew steadily faster and more forceful. Little noises of pleasure escaped from Timmy’s mouth and Armie felt his own erection grow to full hardness, his brain scrambled from what was happening. Without thinking, he let his hands slip down to Timmy’s ass and he squeezed. Timmy let out a tiny moan, gasping, “Armie…”

Timmy’s grinding was becoming frenzied and erratic, and Armie realized that he was close to release. He had never been near another man while he climaxed, much less climaxed all over his thigh. Armie’s body was on fire with the knowledge that he was doing this to Timmy and he grasped the flesh of Timmy’s ass even tighter.

Timmy suddenly lifted his chin and pressed his lips against Armie’s, taking him by surprise with the passionate kiss. Armie kissed back, grateful for Timmy’s mouth on his. Timmy pulled away and gasped, thrusting forcefully a few more times into Armie’s thigh. Armie felt moist warmth spread across against the skin of his leg, and he knew Timmy had come. That knowledge sent Armie over the edge and, without Timmy ever even touching him, his balls tightened and he felt the incredible release of his own orgasm rip through him, soaking his boxers. He thrust his hips once into empty air, wishing he had Timmy’s warm hand around his cock again like the day before.

Then men lay entwined together--sticky, damp, and out of breath--until Timmy lifted his head to gaze at Amie. The sun was starting to come up (meaning they were now running late) and the room was just light enough for them to see into each other’s eyes.

Timmy smiled softly. “See? It’s okay, Armie. We let ourselves feel good and nothing bad happened.”

Armie was relieved to realize that the overwhelming guilt he had felt the day before wasn’t materializing that morning. He just felt… satiated.

He returned Timmy’s soft smile and reached down for a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Timmy reluctantly pushed himself to sitting. “We better get up. I’m a mess and… I think you are, too? Is it okay if I use your shower real quick?”

A vision of the two of them in the shower together flashed in Armie’s mind, but he shook it away. They were already getting a late start this morning. Taking another step in their physical relationship right then wouldn’t be very responsible.

“Of course, Timmy. You don’t even need to ask.”

Timmy crawled out of Armie’s bed, his body shivering in the cold. Armie watched his every move, drinking in every detail, from the visible stain on the front of his boxers to the way his nipples stood at attention from the cold, then up to his adorably disheveled curls. Timmy squatted at his bag and began rummaging through it.

“Fuck, I’m out of clothes again. Can I borrow a sweatshirt, Armie? I’m going to need to do laundry again later.”

“Sure, I’ll find you something.” He paused, thinking. “Are all of your clothes still at your aunt’s house?”

Timmy nodded, his face full of sorrow. “My clothes, my text books, photos of my family. Everything. She kicked me out, barely giving me time to throw a few things into this bag and grab my sleeping roll.”

Armie felt a sudden bolt of anger at this small-minded crone. Who the hell did she think she was?

“We’re going to go back and get your stuff, Timmy. I’ll go with you. They are _your things_ , and she has no right to keep them from you.”

Timmy started to protest, but the truth was that he really wanted his possessions. They were all he had left from his parents. He wasn’t able to take much from his family home after his parents passed—some family portraits, his parents’ passports, some letters to his father from his grandmother in France, a small box of their clothing—but what he had meant the world to him. Pauline had a few more boxes at her apartment, and every object that had been theirs was meaningful to him.

He nodded. “She’s home every night. We should just show up unannounced, take her by surprise. But just so you know, she’s going to be pissed.”

Armie snorted. “I’m not scared of great-aunt Maeve. Alright, let’s plan on going soon then.”

Timmy stood up and crossed the room. “Thank you, Armie,” he said as he pulled Armie into a grateful hug.

*****

Two quick showers later, the men were dressed and heading out the door to feed the animals and check on the chickens to see if any eggs had been laid overnight. It was a chilly morning and they bundled up with hats and gloves. After the animals were taken care of, Armie sent Timmy inside to make coffee and some toast while he started to load the truck with the hay that needed to be delivered. They had double the number of orders to take to local farms due to the rain the previous day, and they were already running behind.

Timmy returned to the truck ten minutes later juggling a thermos of coffee, a thermos of water, a couple of apples and two pieces of toast. Armie grinned at his arrival and that now-familiar warm feeling of partnership returned.

_He’s not here forever_ , he reminded himself, but allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of companionship while he had it.

They took off down the dirt road from Armie’s farm, and Timmy leaned over to turn on the radio.

“You pick today,” he said, starting to scroll through the stations. “No Bob Seger though.”

He paused on an older U2 song. “How about this?”

Armie nodded. “Perfect,” he agreed, reaching down for a slice of toast. The ride was comfortable. They ate their breakfast while Armie drove, and at each property, Armie would tell a funny anecdote or interesting tidbit about the people they were meeting. At the third farm, Armie told Timmy how the farmer and his wife had been a high-powered attorney and book editor in Brooklyn, and had given it all up to run their farm.

Timmy nodded thoughtfully. “I can see the pull. City life is such a rat race, even when you’re a kid. Farming is hard work, but it’s really peaceful.”

Armie nodded but said nothing. In his mind, he stored the knowledge that Timmy seemed to be drawn to Armie’s life. He smiled to himself at that thought.

“What are you smiling at?” Timmy asked with a grin.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just happy.”

Timmy leaned over and kissed Armie’s shoulder. “Me, too,”

*****

The men finished up the hay deliveries in time to have a late lunch. Timmy made turkey sandwiches while Armie checked the hay in the barn to see if it was dry. When he returned, Timmy was leaning against the counter, watching the door as if he were waiting for him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Armie asked as he shrugged off his coat.

Timmy bit his bottom lip, unsure if he should speak his thoughts. “I was just thinking that… I wanted to kiss you when you came back in. But I’m not sure if we, you know… _do_ that.”

Armie didn’t speak as he hung up his coat, but he had a smile on his face when he turned back to Timmy. “I think that when we’re working, no kissing. It’s too distracting. But when we’re in the house, you can kiss me as much as you’d like. How does that sound?”

Armie was rewarded with Timmy’s face lighting up like a Roman candle. He immediately set down the butter knife he had been holding, strode over to Armie in three long steps, and got on his tip-toes to lay a kiss on Armie’s lips. He started to pull away, but Armie grabbed him to keep him close.

“More,” he murmured, and covered Timmy’s mouth with his own, relishing the freedom to kiss this beautiful man whenever he wanted… in the confines of his home, of course. Timmy slipped his tongue into Armie’s mouth and their kiss grew deeper and more passionate. After a minute, Armie pulled away, already out of breath.

“Fuck, Timmy. You put thoughts into my brain that I’ve never had before.”

Timmy pressed his entire body against Armie’s, letting Armie feel the way he affected him. “Good.”

Armie took a long, slow inhale to calm his body. “It’s good, but not now. We still have work to do this afternoon.”

Timmy nodded with understanding. He couldn’t let himself forget that ultimately he was there to work and earn money. That was the clear, easy part of their relationship. It was everything else that was confusing.

They settled in at the table with their sandwiches. After a few minutes of silent chewing, Timmy had to bring up what was bothering him.

“So, what _are_ we Armie? Boss and employee? Roommates? Friends with benefits? I just need to know how to catalog us in my head so I don’t get hurt.”

Armie stopped chewing and looked at Timmy, shocked to see the hurt expression on his face. He hated that Timmy had even a second of worry about this, but he understood his confusion.

“I don’t know if there _is_ a word for what we are, Timmy. Yes, I am paying you because you are providing me with invaluable help that I really need. But I don’t feel like I’m your boss. And I know you won’t be here forever, but I guess, right now, I feel like you’re my… partner.”

A small smile began to develop across Timmy’s face. “Partner? I like that.”

Armie nodded, the word ringing more true as he considered it. “Sure. Partners in work, partners with the cooking and cleaning. You keep me company during deliveries. I think that sounds accurate.”

Timmy cleared his throat. “What about, you know, in bed?”

Armie flushed. He wanted that, too. “Eventually, maybe Timmy. I just…”  
  


“I understand, Armie. I don’t want to rush you. Just know that it will be really good when it finally happens.”

Armie had to bite back a groan at Timmy’s words: _It will be really good._ Suddenly those vague, unformed thoughts of _trying things_ with Timmy in bed began to take on a more solid form in his brain. Being naked with Timmy, his mouth on Timmy, Timmy’s mouth on him.

Armie stood up abruptly, needing to take a break.

“I’m going to use the restroom, and then we should hit the field for a few hours. I’ll show you how to drive the tractor, if you want.”

Timmy grinned in excitement at this while Armie slipped into the bathroom to take care of himself. Timmy was proving to be a constant distraction, even when they weren’t kissing.

*****

The men worked a long, hard day in the fields. Armie showed Timmy how to drive the tractor, which he picked up surprisingly quickly. Armie was relieved to see that Timmy was a fast learner, and their work was rarely slowed by Timmy’s inexperience. After a few hours, they were ready to bring the bales to the barn to be loaded onto Armie’s truck for future deliveries.

As they climbed down from the tractor, Timmy groaned in pain.

“You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” Armie warned him. “When I first started working the fields, I sometimes could barely lift my arms over my head the next day.”

He walked over to where Timmy was rubbing his aching shoulders. “Here, let me do that.”

Armie stood behind Timmy, grasping his shoulders with his muscular hands, and squeezing hard. Timmy winced in pain. “Try and relax. It might hurt at first, but it will help in the long run.”

Timmy took a deep breath and let his head hang as Armie worked his shoulders more. It did hurt--a lot at first--but then eventually the pain became soothing. Timmy let a moan of pleasure slip out of his mouth.

Armie grinned. “Starting to feel good, huh?” He reluctantly let go of Timmy’s shoulders. “If you’re lucky, I will give you a longer one tonight.”

Timmy turned with an eyebrow raised. “Just my shoulders, or are other body parts on the table?”

Armie chuckled. “We’ll see. Come on, let’s go inside and get some dinner.”

*****

Timmy volunteered to cook that night, in accordance to their new “partnership.” He made spaghetti with Bolognese sauce, one of the only things he knew how to cook. Armie chopped some veggies for a salad, then produced a bottle of red.

“Our reward for a hard day’s work. You want a glass?”

Timmy turned from the stove where he was stirring the sauce and his eyes widened when he saw the bottle of wine.

“Definitely! But only one. Red wine gives me a headache in the morning if I drink too much. And we have another long day tomorrow, right?”

Armie shrugged. “Nah, I know the boss. I actually don’t have any deliveries tomorrow. If we bust our asses in the morning, we can take the afternoon off. I was thinking maybe we can give Aunt Maeve a visit.”

Anxiety clouded Timmy’s face. He knew that Armie wanted to take him to get his stuff, but this was so soon. “Tomorrow?”

“We don’t want to give her more time to decide to throw any of it out, right? I can’t think of any reason to wait. She has _your things_ , Timmy. You deserve to get them back.”

Timmy was silent for several minutes as he plated the pasta and salad, the took the food to the table. He finally turned and spoke. “You’re right, Armie. She’s just an old lady, right? As long as you’re with me…”

“I won’t leave your side. I promise.”

Timmy took a deep breathe, then slowly let it out. “Okay, then let’s do it. Tomorrow.”

The men enjoyed a leisurely dinner with Archie at their feet. After dinner, Timmy walked over to the barn to see the animals while Armie did the dishes and made a fire. When he returned an hour later, chilled to the bone from the unheated barn, Armie was waiting with the blanket ready for him on the couch.

“I love that you love those animals so much,” he murmured into Timmy’s curls.

Armie’s breath tickled Timmy’s ear and he giggled. “I feel a weird kinship with them. Plus they’re adorable.”

“ _You’re_ adorable,” Armie replied, his voice soft and vulnerable. He had never been so affectionate and honest with another person. Timmy didn’t reply, but lifted his chin to capture Armie’s lips in his own. The moment felt precious, and Armie wished he could preserve it in amber.

They kissed chastely for a few minutes, then snuggled together to watch the fire. After a few minutes, Armie could feel his eyes start to close. He stretched and stood up.

“We better get to bed. We need to get up extra early if we want to take tomorrow afternoon off.”

Timmy nodded, standing next to Armie. He kissed him one last time. “Well... ‘night. See you in the morning.”

Timmy turned to head down the hall to the guest room, until Armie grabbed his arm with a chuckle.

“Where do you think you’re going? Come on, I still owe you a massage.” He took Timmy by the hand, leading him down the hall to his bedroom. Armie wasn’t going to spend a single night apart from this beautiful man if he didn’t have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, or have any thoughts on it at all, please leave a comment!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two massages, and a confrontation.
> 
> This chapter is tagged for homophobia and homophobic slurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Farmie! Things are moving along with our boys. As always, thank you to my readers for your incredible support. I love this story so much, and I am happy so many of you do, as well!
> 
> Now, how do I insert a tiny horse into this fic???

Chapter Eight

As Armie led Timmy down the hall, the reality of what was about to happen began to crystalize for him. He had agreed to massage Timmy… in his bedroom. And while he still wanted to do that for Timmy, he realized what a sexually-charged situation this could turn into. He paused for a moment outside the bedroom door, considering the decision.

“What’s wrong, Armie? Are you having second thoughts? We don’t have to do this…” Timmy laid a reassuring hand on Armie’s shoulder. “I can sleep in the guest room. I… I don’t mind.”

Armie turned abruptly, his eyes meeting Timmy’s. “No! I don’t want you to do that… _at all_.” He finally opened the door to the bedroom. “I just had a bout of… I don’t know. Nerves, I guess. But I want to do this for you, Timmy. You worked your ass off today, and I want to do something nice for you.”

Timmy followed Armie into the room grinning, and in one swift motion, pulled off his shirt. Armie turned to close the door and when he turned back, Timmy was climbing onto the bed with only his boxers on. Armie licked his lips and took a deep breath to calm himself. This massage was going to take all the restraint he possessed to stay platonic.

Timmy made himself comfortable on Armie’s bed. He lay on his belly, his arms bent over his head. His face was smooth--relaxed and content—and his eyes had fallen shut. Armie took a moment just to soak in the sight of him in; to preserve the memory of this moment, with Timmy so happy and comfortable on Armie’s bed. Armie was only too aware that he wasn’t always going to be there.

Once he had decided that the memory was thoroughly burned into his brain, Armie sat on the bed next to Timmy and grasped his shoulders, hesitantly starting the massage. Timmy let out a groan of pleasure, even though Armie had barely done anything. Armie’s cock took notice.

Armie quickly pulled his hands off of Timmy’s back. “Timmy, you can’t keep moaning like that. I swear by body can’t take it.”

Timmy chuckled softly. “Sorry, sorry. Your hands just feel _so good_. But I can control myself. I _think_ …”

Armie took a deep breath and returned his hands to Timmy waiting form, kneading his shoulders, softly at first, then firmer and firmer. Timmy tried to contain his purrs of pleasure, but every so often, a tiny moan would escape. Eventually, sitting to the side of Timmy while trying to massage his back grew uncomfortable for Armie.

“Timmy, would you mind if I sat _on_ your back? It would make this a lot easier for me if I didn’t have turn to the side to massage you.”

Timmy hummed his assent into the pillow, so Armie climbed onto him and gingerly sat on his petite rear. At this angle, he was able to get a strong grip on Timmy’s back, and started to really dig into his muscles. Timmy yelped at his first few pulls, but then relaxed as he got used to it.

“Fuuuuuck, Armie. That feels so good,” he murmured, not bothering to lift his face off the pillow.

Armie worked on keeping his focus on the task of giving a good massage, trying to ignore the warm silkiness of Timmy’s skin under his fingers. When Beth was alive, they would often give each other massages after a hard day’s work. It was a way for them to be intimate and express their love and appreciation of each other, while also getting some of the physical attention they both still craved. With Beth, it never turned sexual. This massage with Timmy, however, threatened to slip past the boundaries of being platonic and sneak into ‘erotic’ territory if Armie wasn’t careful.

Armie slid his large hands down the smooth planes of Timmy’s back. He was thin, for sure, but surprising muscular. Even though Armie often thought of Timmy as beautiful, with his plush lips and long eyelashes, his body was undeniably masculine. He ran his hands up Timmy’s back again, squeezing his tense shoulders, and then down his arms that had proven to be so strong, despite their delicate appearance.

Every inch of Timmy’s body was fascinating and appealing to Armie.

He pressed down on Timmy’s shoulder’s one last time, kneading away the knots that he felt there, then sat up.

“How was that? Feel better?” He was proud that he hadn’t crossed any lines. Maybe they would be able to take things slow, after all. He was half-hard from having his hands all over Timmy’s body, but he still felt in control.

Timmy lifted his head enough to look at Armie. His face was flush and he wore a hazy smile. “So much better, Armie. Thank you.”

Armie climbed off of Timmy’s body and stood next to the bed. Timmy rolled onto his back, gazing up adoringly at Armie. “Let me give you one now,” he offered, his voice hinting at the possibility of a plead if Armie turned him down.

Armie shook his head. “It’s late, Timmy. You don’t have to…”

Timmy sat up. “I want to. Please? I _really_ want to…”

Armie licked his lips, feeling his self-control slip a bit. “I guess a quick massage would be good. My back has been bothering me lately.”

This was true, and it gave Armie enough of an excuse to consent to an idea which he knew, deep down, probably wasn’t very smart.

Timmy scrambled off the bed, then smoothed the bedspread and fluffed the pillows, making the space nice for Armie.

“It’s all ready for you!” he announced with a grin. Armie started to climb onto the bed with his shirt on, but Timmy stopped him, pulling at the hem of the cloth.

“This comes off. I can’t give you a proper massage if you’re dressed.”

Armie smirked, but pulled off the garment. “Have you ever given a massage before, Timmy?”

Timmy shook his head. “Nope. But I _just_ got a really good one, and I’m a fast learner,” he answered with a grin.

Armie climbed onto the bed, assuming the same position that Timmy had been in, on his stomach, his arms over his head. As soon as Timmy climbed onto him, his pelvis pressing into Armie’s ass, Timmy’s weight pushing Armie’s half-hard cock into the mattress, he thought that this was probably a mistake. And when Timmy laid his hands on Armie’s back and began to knead his tired muscles, he knew that it was definitely a huge mistake. This massage already felt dangerous to him, ready to spiral way out of his control.

Timmy ran his hands up and down Armie back several times, pushing down with his entire body weight to make up for the upper body strength that he lacked.

“How is that?” he asked after a few minutes. Armie could tell this was Timmy’s first massage, but it still felt incredible, having his hands touching his skin and rubbing his muscles.

He hummed in approval. “Don’t stop,” he mumbled. Timmy began kneading his shoulder blades, and then Armie felt his lips brush the back of his neck. Goosebumps immediately spread across his skin.

“Timmy…” he warned. “Just a massage.”

“What?” Timmy protested innocently. “You said I could kiss you while we were in the house. That was a kiss and we’re in the house!”

Armie didn’t answer. He _had_ said that after all, and in all honestly, he wanted to feel Timmy’s lips on his flesh again. After a moment, he said quietly, “It’s okay. It felt good.”

Timmy continued the massage, not replying, but soon his lips found their way back to Armie’s bare skin. While his hands worked Armie’s lower back, his lips gave slow kisses and nibbles across his upper back and shoulders. Armie felt his semi-erection grow to full hardness. His resistance to Timmy was almost gone.

Timmy slid down off of Armie’s ass onto his upper thighs as his lips explored further south, down to the small of Armie’s back. His hands began to knead Armie’s waist and hips, even though they weren’t particularly sore, then they slowly pulled down his boxers, exposing the curved flesh that had been hidden away.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Timmy whispered, as he bent way down to let his lips explore the soft curves of Armie’s ass. Armie stayed mute, allowing Timmy to pull off his boxers and toss them aside. His brain had ceased functioning clearly, allowing his body, led mostly by one specific body part, to take over all decision-making responsibilities for Armie.

Timmy settled on his belly between Armie’s thick thighs and returned his hands to the firm flesh of Armie’s ass. Timmy had never seen it bare before this moment, and he took the opportunity to appreciate its flawless shape and the light dusting of dark blond hair near his crevice. Timmy squeezed the two perfect spheres, trying to keep up the pretext of giving Armie a massage, until he let his mouth ventured tentatively into the dark depths hidden between his thighs. There was no pretending at that point… this had progressed far beyond the boundaries of a massage.

Timmy had never done this before, but he knew it was something that men sometimes did to one another. And he had been thinking about doing it with Armie almost since his first night at the farm. How Armie would taste, the sounds he would make if Timmy did it, and most importantly… would Armie even let him? His chastely kissed the inside of the crease between his cheeks, and he felt Armie keen. His hips rolled the slightest bit into the mattress and he gave a soft whimper. Timmy took that as permission to continue. He gently pulled apart Armie’s cheeks until he saw his furled opening. Without a second thought, he gave it a soft lick, and Armie immediately gasped and Timmy glanced up to see his fists grip the sheet underneath him. He grinned and licked again and again, each time a little more forceful.

“Timmy… fuck, what are you doing to me?” Armie panted, but didn’t give any indication that he wanted Timmy to stop. Timmy grew brave and pushed his tongue firmly into Armie’s entrance, breaching the first ring of muscle. Armie tasted of sweat and musk, but Timmy didn’t mind. All he cared about was making Armie feel good.

Suddenly, Armie pulled away from Timmy, breathing hard. Timmy was about to apologize, when Armie flipped over, spreading his legs on either side of Timmy again. His cock was red and leaking.

“Take me in your mouth. Please, Timmy,” Armie gasped. He didn’t have to ask twice. Timmy bent down, taking as much as he could of Armie’s gorgeous erection in one swallow. It was the largest cock he had ever had ever actually seen. It was thick and long, just like Armie himself. He was too excited to finally get the chance to put his mouth on Armie to be nervous, and he could barely fit even half of the length in his mouth at once. Armie didn’t seem to mind, or even notice. He fell back onto the bed and moaned in pure ecstasy as soon as Timmy’s mouth was wrapped around his tip.

“Oh my god,” he panted, over and over, as if there were no other words that were equal to the moment. Timmy had slid his mouth up and down Armie’s shaft only a few times before Armie sputtered the words, “Timmy, I think I’m going to….” and Timmy’s mouth filled with Armie’s slippery release.

Timmy had just enough experience to stay on Armie’s cock until he was through, but not enough to swallow. He grabbed a tissue from next to the bed and spit his mouthful of come into his hand. Luckily Armie was still too absorbed in recovering from his first blowjob-induced-orgasm to notice that Timmy had breached basic oral sex etiquette. Timmy threw the soggy tissue into the nearby wastebasket and turned back to Armie, who was still catching his breath.

Timmy watched Armie for a moment, hoping not to catch any signs of distress or regret, but Armie looked completely satiated and content. Eventually he opened his eyes and grinned when he realized that Timmy was watching him.

“Was that okay?” Timmy asked, realizing how dumb that sounded.

Armie chuckled. “Yeah, I would say that was _okay_.” He sat up and took Timmy into his arms, kissing him in a way that left no doubt in Timmy’s mind just how _okay_ Armie was feeling. “Thank you,” he said softly after he pulled away. “Thank you for showing me everything I’ve been missing, and for making me see that I don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying it.”

Timmy exhaled with intense relief. This was all he could ask for. This was everything. They two men lay together for a few more minutes before Armie reminded them how late it was. They quickly got ready for bed, then crawled back under the covers and into each other’s arms for another sound night’s sleep. Armie’s last thought before dozing off was: how was he ever going to sleep again once Timmy left?

*****

The men woke the next day to the patter of a light drizzle on the roof. Armie climbed out of bed, still naked, and peeked out of the blinds, trying to determine how hard it was raining. Timmy opened his eyes and could just make out the outline of Armie’s naked form, appearing like some sort of beautiful specter in the dark. Timmy sighed, wishing he could convince Armie to come back to bed, but he knew it was futile to even try. As always, they had a full morning of work ahead of them, especially if Armie was still determined to take the afternoon off to confront Aunt Maeve. Timmy, on the other hand, would be happy to put that off until another day.

Timmy reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and threw on the same clothes he had worn the day before. As much as he dreaded facing his aunt, he had to admit that he looked forward to retrieving the rest of his clothing. As he zipped up his jeans, Armie walked over to him, still naked, and pulled him into a kiss.

“Morning. I know we said no kissing once we start work, so I wanted to make sure I got in a few before we left the house.”

Timmy was amazed at the change in Armie since they had talked the day before. It was as if Armie had finally given himself permission to enjoy what he had with Timmy. Timmy’s heart raced with happiness, knowing that he had played a part in giving Armie that gift.

“I’m here for all the kisses,” Timmy responded with a grin when Armie finally pulled away to go use the restroom. “And also--I want it known that I think the ‘no kissing during work’ policy is dumb,” he called through the bathroom door.

Armie cracked open the door. “Timmy, you know that if I let you kiss me during the day, we will get nothing done. _NOTHING_. Why don’t you go start the coffee or check on Archie? Go make yourself useful before I pull you into bed again.”

Timmy chuckled as he headed into the kitchen. “Promises, promises.” He set about making the coffee and pouring a bit of kibble into Arche’s bowl. He was pulling on his boots to go out to the barn when Armie walked out of the bedroom and sniffed the air.

“Coffee is already brewing? I could get used to this,” he said, almost as an afterthought. He glanced up at Timmy when he realized what he said, and the way it implied a more long-term situation between them. But Timmy was already pulling on his jacket and heading out the door.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, Armie poured himself a cup of coffee and shook his head in wonder at how he and Timmy already had such a well-oiled routine established after just a few days. He trusted Timmy to feed the animals and check for eggs while Armie made some breakfast. After they ate, Timmy would follow whatever instructions Armie gave him for the day, and there really wasn’t any task that Armie didn’t think that Timmy could handle. It gave Armie such a sense of relief and peace, having someone he trusted so completely to share the responsibilities of the farm with.

_A partner_. That’s what he had said yesterday, and it felt so right. That’s really all Armie ever wanted in his life, someone to share it with. He heaved a bittersweet sigh, both at having found that person in Timmy, and in knowing that it could never be forever.

*****

The men headed out to the fields and spent the next several hours harvesting hay, then sending it through the baler for the next day’s deliveries. They worked quickly, and got done in less than five hours the amount of work that used to take Armie all day to complete. After they unloaded the last truckload of hay into the barn, they headed back to the house for showers and a quick lunch.

As the time to leave for Aunt Maeve’s house grew closer and closer, Timmy’s nerves began to feel frayed. The last time he had seen his aunt, she had called him every anti-gay slur she could think of, and told him he was a disgrace to God and his family. Timmy had been incredibly distraught. Even though he was not ashamed of being gay, Aunt Maeve was one of his only remaining relatives, and to hear those things come out of her mouth, directed at him, was devastating.

His aunt had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to get out of her home and never return. He was no longer her great-nephew, and she assured him that his grandmother (her sister) would have been ashamed if she were still alive. Timmy knew deep down that that would not have been true. His grandmother had fled Vermont and her stodgy family to dance in New York when she had been barely older than Timmy, and she had always been a progressive and open-minded lady. But Timmy had been in no position to argue. He threw a few of his things into a backpack, grabbed his sleeping roll and the few dollars he had squirrelled away, and hit the road with no plan.

That first night on the road, Timmy had called Pauline from a payphone, and she had been understandably furious at Maeve. She ranted about getting on a bus to give old Aunt Maeve a piece or two of her mind. She made Timmy promise to come to New York as soon as he could, but she was almost as broke as he was, and she couldn’t help him at all financially. She told him that as long as he could get himself to Manhattan, she would help him find a job and a place to stay. Eventually, he could go back to school.

Saving money for a bus ticket when he had no place to sleep and no food to eat turned out to be more difficult than Timmy had planned. By the time he had found his way up the long road to Armie’s farm, after hitting up several other farmers for work earlier that day with no luck, he was almost out of hope. But then the tall gorgeous farmer with the kind smile had offered him an hour’s worth of work and a bowl of chili, and his life finally took a turn for the better.

******

Timmy wanted to look respectable for his dreaded visit with Aunt Maeve (even though he knew she didn’t deserve that consideration), so Armie found a dress shirt that was a little tight on him, and let him borrow a tie. He combed out his hair, trying to smooth his cowlicks, and cleaned off his boots as best he could. Armie wanted to look nice, as well, so he threw on a dress shirt and tie. Timmy was speechless at how handsome he looked. He could have passed for a professor or attorney, with how perfectly he wore the dress clothes.

Armie looked over Timmy appreciatively. “You clean up nice, Timmy,” he said with a bit of a lump in his throat. He didn’t want to let on to Timmy, but he was nervous as well, but for different reasons. He was scared that he was going to see that witch of a woman and completely tell her off. When he thought of her hurting Timmy, saying cruel things to him and kicking him out of her home, he became so angry that he literally saw red. Armie would never hurt a fly, but he also knew he could be an imposing person, especially when he was mad. He would have to work to control his temper.

They climbed into the cab of the truck and Armie glanced at Timmy. He looked terrified. Armie reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve got your back, Timmy. I’m not going to let her hurt you. If you want, you don’t even have to talk to her. I can do all the talking.”

Timmy took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No, this is my fight, Armie. I just need you there for moral support. But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.” He squeezed Armie’s hand back then let it go, staring out the window, lost in thought. Armie put the truck in gear and headed down the driveway.

It was a 30-minute drive to Rutland, which they traveled in silence. It was a drive Armie was very familiar with, as he had grown up one town over, and now often went into Rutland for supplies. He knew a few families there, but had fortunately never heard of Maeve Flender.

Timmy had given him the address and Armie knew the street. He pulled up in front of a small, very neat bungalow with an American flag and a few rose bushes out front.

Timmy nodded with dread. “Yup, this is it.” He pointed to a second floor window. “That was my room up there.” He stared at the house a few moments more, as if recalling some terrible memories. Then he abruptly grabbed the door handle and opened it. “Let’s get this over with,” he said as he climbed out of the truck.

Armie followed him up the short walkway to the front door. Timmy wanted to do all of the talking, so Armie would hold back unless Timmy somehow indicated that he needed his help. He figured that just having Armie’s formidable figure behind him may help to convince Aunt Maeve to let Timmy retrieve his things.

Timmy rang the doorbell and waited, his hands fidgeting nervously. Armie would have given anything to take one of Timmy’s hands in his own, to give him that physical reassurance that he wasn’t alone. But he knew that wasn’t a good idea, so he put his own hands in his pockets and waited anxiously behind Timmy.

The door swung open, and a tiny grey-haired woman in pearls with the face of a hawk was suddenly staring up at them in shock.

“Timothee,” she said, as if admonishing him. She looked behind him, her eyes setting on Armie then swinging back to Timmy. “You can’t be here right now. I have company. I am hosting my Ladies’ Church Group.”

Timmy hesitated; his aunt having company was unexpected. But then he seemed to retrieve his resolve. He straightened and said firmly, “I’m here to get the rest of my things, Aunt Maeve. It won’t take more than a few minutes. I promise I won’t bother your friends.”

Maeve shook her head. “You’re not welcome here, Timothee. Now, or ever. Good day.”

She began to close the door on Timmy’s face, but he put a hand up to stop the door. She gasped in disbelief. “Let go of my door, young man!” she shouted.

Timmy stood his ground. “I need to get my things. I have books, and clothing, and items that belonged to my parents. We drove here to get them and we are _going_ to get them. So please let us in.”

Maeve seemed to relent a bit. She looked at Armie again. “And who are you? His _boyfriend?”_ She said the word boyfriend as if it were a slur. Timmy winced, but Armie took it in stride.

“Timmy works for me. I’m here to make sure he gets his things.”

Maeve glared at them both, but then opened the door to let them in. “You have ten minutes. And don’t touch anything that is not yours!” she said shrilly.

Timmy entered the home, and the sound of women talking and laughing could be heard from the living room. He ignored it, heading down the hallway towards the staircase. As they passed the hallway door, suddenly a voice unfamiliar to Timmy called out.

“Armand! Armand, is that you?”

Timmy and Armie stopped and turned to see who was speaking. A handsome blond woman in her 50’s was suddenly in front of an ashen Armie.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, glancing at Timmy and then back at Armie.

Armie approached the woman, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Hello, mother. It’s been awhile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter or have any thoughts on it at all, please leave a comment. Thank you!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie confronts his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love that you all love these boys as much as I do. They have been through so much; they deserve a little happiness! Thank you for all your continued support! xoxox

Chapter Nine

“Hello, mother. It’s been awhile.”

Armie was surprised and yet not to see his mother at Timmy’s aunt’s house. Dru Hammer was heavily involved in several ladies’ church groups, and Timmy had mentioned that his aunt was very religious. Still, it was not what he wanted to deal with at the moment. He had barely seen his mother at all since Beth’s funeral, by his own choice.

Dru looked over at Timmy, then back at Armie. “Why are you with this boy? Don’t you know who he _is_?”

Armie pursed his lips. There it was—the reason he stayed away from his mother. “He works for me, mother, and he needed my help. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Dru stepped towards Armie, placing a hand on his arm. “Armie, wait. Come talk to me privately in the kitchen. Please?”

Armie was tempted to say no, but he knew he would have to deal with her eventually. He turned to Timmy who had been watching the entire interaction with a terrible mix of confusion and dread in the pit of his stomach. This was Armie’s mother, and she seemed to know who Timmy was. There was no way that was a good thing.

“Timmy, I need to talk to my mother for just a few minutes. Why don’t you head upstairs and start packing your things and I’ll meet you up there?”

Armie’s heart twisted at the expression on Timmy’s face. This trip was painful enough, and now the added shock of his mother’s appearance was making things even more difficult. His voice softened. “I promise, it will just be a minute or two.”

Dru’s eyes narrowed at Armie’s tone. Timmy nodded and turned to head up the stairs. Armie spun back to face Dru. “Okay, let’s go talk.”

They headed into Maeve’s small kitchen and Dru shut the door. “We don’t need anyone knowing our business,” she announced sharply as she pushed it closed.

When she turned back to Armie, concern was clouding her face. “Why is that boy staying with you? Maeve told us all that she caught him with another _boy_. Armie, you can _not_ have someone like that staying at your farm. Imagine the rumors if people find out!”

Armie shook his head, trying to subdue his anger. “Mother, I don’t care what he has done or who he has been with. I needed the help at the farm and he is helping me. He’s a good kid and a hard worker. That’s all that matters to me.”

Dru paused, as if thinking of the best way to word her next thought. “But Armie… with your own, um, _proclivities_ … I really don’t think that it is good to have someone like that in your home. He might tempt you to try that lifestyle! And I saw the way he looked at you. _Nothing good will come of it_!” Dru’s voice grew louder and shriller as she spoke.

“Mother, I am going to help Timmy now. It’s was _lovely_ to see you again,” Armie retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Dru suddenly grabbed Armie’s bicep, panic distorting her face. “It has already happened, hasn’t it? I can sense it. You are… _with_ that boy, aren’t you?”

Armie said nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to deny it, but he also didn’t want to give his mother the satisfaction of knowing she was right. He pulled his arm away and began to walk out of the kitchen. Dru’s voice followed him out the door.

“ _May God have mercy on your soul, Armand_!”

Armie took the stairs two at a time and found Timmy in the first room he came to. He was crouched down, zipping up the duffle bag with two large boxes piled next to his feet. He looked up as soon as Armie entered the room looking visibly shaken.

“Oh my god, Armie.” Timmy stood up and grabbed Armie into a tight hug. “Are you okay? What did she say to you?”

Armie let himself be held for a moment, trying to recover from the terrible interaction with his mother. Timmy’s embrace was like a balm for his soul. After a moment, he pulled away. “I’ll tell you in the truck. Are you ready to go? Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Timmy nodded, throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder, then picking up the smaller of the two boxes. Armie grabbed the larger box and led the way out the door. The chatter coming from the living room stopped as soon as they came down the staircase. Suddenly Maeve was in front of the men.

“Armand, I am sorry about the loss of your wife. I know her parents and they would _not approve_ of this arrangement.”

Timmy tried to speak up on Armie’s behalf, but Armie put a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Timmy. I’ve got this.”

He turned back to Maeve. “I appreciate the condolences, Ms. Flender, and you are probably right about Mr. and Mrs. Chambers. They approved of very little that Beth and I did, so there is no surprise there. Thank you for allowing us to retrieve Timothee’s things. You have a nice day.”

He looked into the living room, where a dozen middle-aged women were gawking at their interaction. Dru was nowhere to be found. “And good day to all of you lovely ladies.”

He gave a nod and headed out the door, leaving the women in stunned silence. Timmy gave a quick nod to his aunt and followed Armie out the door, relieved that he would most likely never see her again.

*****

The men threw the overstuffed bag and two boxes into the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab. Armie put the key into the ignition, but then leaned his head back on the seat and took in a deep breath.

“Well _that_ was something. I need a minute,” he explained, glancing over at Timmy.

Timmy nodded quickly. “Of course, Armie. Take whatever time you need.”

Armie inhaled a few more cleansing breaths, then turned to Timmy, clasping one of his hands into his own. “No, I’m okay. Seeing my mother just threw me for a loop. But how are _you_ doing?”

Timmy shrugged and smiled. “I’m fine. _Really_. Having you next to me made all the difference, Armie. Thank you.”

Armie gazed at Timmy, wishing for all the world that he could take him in his arms and kiss the hell out of him, but this wasn’t the time or place. Instead, he smiled back and squeezed his hand tightly.

“It was the least I could do for you, Timmy. And now you’ve got your stuff and you can put Auntie Maeve behind you forever.”

Timmy sighed. He had never been a fan of his aunt, even before he lived with her, but she was still family. She had known Timmy since before he was born. It made him sad that he had to let go of yet another person from his old life.

He changed the subject before he fell down a spiral of self-pity. “So, what now? Back to the farm to make dinner?” That idea sounded very comforting to Timmy at that moment.

Armie started up the truck. “Actually, I have some errands to run in Rutland, and then I was thinking that maybe we could get dinner at Luca’s?”

“A restaurant? Like… a date?” 

Armie grinned. “Not _like_ a date. An _actual_ date. You look so cute, all dressed up. I want to show you off.”

Timmy flushed with pleasure. “Are you sure, Armie? I don’t want to do anything that might make people talk.”

Armie snorted. “That ship has sailed. Maeve’s living room contained some of the biggest gossips in all of Rutland. They will probably scurry home to call all their friends as soon as we are gone. We are going to be the talk of the church coffee hour for the next several weeks.”

*****

Armie stopped at the feed store and the hardware store, then parked in front of Luca’s, Rutland’s only authentic Italian restaurant. Timmy had never even heard of it, and Armie hadn’t been there since he and Beth had celebrated their last anniversary there. He felt no conflict or guilt about taking Timmy there, though. Beth had made it clear when she knew she was going to pass that her one wish for Armie would be for him to find true love and live his life authentically. She had tried to make him promise her that if he ever met the right person, no matter what the gender, he wouldn’t let them go.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do that, Beth. I just can’t make that promise,” he had said to her, tears filling his eyes.

She had taken his hands into her own, caressing his knuckle with her thin fingers. “Armie, life is too short to live it as a lie.” She stared sternly into his eyes. “I love you so much, but one of my biggest regrets is us getting married and taking the chance for real love from each other. It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you. Please, Armie… if the chance ever comes for you, please be brave and take it.”

Armie had nodded in agreement at the time, but inside he had no idea if he would ever have the courage that she spoke of.

But now… 7 months later, here he was. About to enter one of Rutland’s most popular restaurants with his… whatever Timmy was beside him. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it if he didn’t have Beth’s voice pestering him in his brain to be brave. _And_ if he hadn’t fallen so hard for the incredible man beside him.

The host took them to a table in the back. They didn’t hold hands or indicate in any way that they were on a date, but Timmy didn’t mind. They slid into the small table and Armie’s legs immediately wove around Timmy’s, out of sight under the table cloth. He ordered a bottle of red and two waters.

“Wow, wine and everything. This really _is_ a date, huh?”

“Nothing but the best for you,” Armie replied, a huge grin on his face. He felt safe from curious stares at the back of the dark restaurant, and they were far enough away from other tables to be able to talk freely.

“So, I didn’t see you get your things. Did you find everything you wanted to take?”

The waiter dropped off a bread basket and Timmy grabbed a roll and began buttering it lavishly. He was famished. “I think so. I was so anxious and frazzled; I don’t think I was thinking too clearly. But I got all of my clothes, and both boxes of my parents’ things. I just hope I got all my text books. I grabbed a stack of them from next to my bed, but I didn’t look through them very carefully.”

Armie watched Timmy with a bit of sadness. “Is it too late for you to go back to college this semester?”

Timmy nodded, not looking up. “I think so. I haven’t been to a class since Maeve kicked me out, which was over a month ago. I’ve missed way too much to try to catch up. I need to contact the college and make sure I get incompletes instead of F’s. Maybe try to get some of my tuition refunded.”

“But you’ll go back next semester, right?”

Timmy sighed. “That’s my plan. But I don’t have Maeve helping me out anymore, so it will be a lot more difficult. I’m hoping to take a few classes at Manhattan community college after I move back.”

Armie’s heart ached at the reminder that Timmy would be leaving eventually. He forced himself to smile. “You’ll find a way to make it happen. You’re incredibly resourceful.”

Timmy grinned. “Thanks. How about you? You mentioned that you had wanted to study literature? What happened?”

Armie hesitated; he had never discussed his dream of going to college with anyone. He had been shocked at himself when he had mentioned it to Timmy the second day they had met. Timmy took his hesitation as resistance.

“I’m sorry; if it’s a sore topic…”

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just not something I talk about like, ever. But I want to.” He looked into Timmy eyes. “It feels good to talk to someone about these things. It feels good to talk to _you_ about these things.”

At that moment, the waitress came with their wine and to take their order. Armie was glad for the interruption to try and put his thoughts in order. Timmy didn’t know it, but the story of him not going to college was all of his pain and regrets rolled into one decision. A decision that had not been his to make.

After the waitress left, Armie took a deep breath while Timmy waited expectantly. He was desperate to find out more about Armie.

Armie began. “So, let me start from the beginning, with me and Beth. We grew up together. Our parents were friends; we went to the same church. We had been best friends ever since we were… god, like 3-years-old. People thought it was funny when we were younger that she was such a tomboy and I was more careful and bookish. It was cute then, I guess, although even when we were young, our parents were trying to change us. My parents were always on me to take up a sport. Her parents were always on her to put on a dress.” Armie chuckled bitterly.

“As we got older, it wasn’t so cute anymore. Both our parents put so much pressure on us to act differently, and we really found refuge in each other’s company. We were the only ones who understood what the other was going through. I confessed to her that I liked boys, and she told me that she thought that she liked girls. Eventually, our parents even began to take issue with our friendship, saying that it wasn’t healthy for us to spend so much time together. I should be hanging with other guys, or taking girls out. So, to shut them up, we decided to start ‘dating.’” Armie made air quote with his fingers.

Timmy listened with rapt attention. He was finding out so much about Armie that made sense. He was finally able to put together more of the pieces of his Armie puzzle.

“After my mom found my stash of catalogue pictures, the pressure on me got even more intense. Then around that time, Beth’s sister caught her kissing one of her soccer team mates afterschool and told her parents. It was a bad scene for both of us. Really, really awful.”

Armie paused, remembering that time in his life. His parents had accused him of so many terrible things and had threatened to disown him.

“My parents and Beth’s parents got together to discuss our ‘situation’ and came to the conclusion that the only solution was for us to get married right after high school. They pretty much didn’t give us a choice, and we were too young and dumb to know that we could have said no. Beth’s parents would gift us this farm, and we would marry and live here, our secrets properly buried. Their reputations and our souls would be saved. Problem solved.”

Armie took a huge sip of his wine, trying to push down the pain that recalling these memories stirred up. “So… no college for either of us. I think our parents were convinced that if we went to college, we would give in to our sinful inclinations. Which, to be honest, is probably true,” he ended with a humorless laugh.

Timmy thought about Armie’s story. “I’m so sorry, Armie. But… it’s not too late for you, either, you know. You could still go to college.”

Armie shook his head. “No, it’s too late, Timmy. There is no way I can run this farm by myself and take college courses. It’s a nice thought, but it’s just not realistic.”

Timmy didn’t reply, but looked down at his wine, lost in thought.

The waitress came with their food and Armie decided to change the subject. There were so many things he wanted to know about Timmy, and this seemed like the perfect time to ask. “So, tell me about your sister. Is she just like you?”

Timmy’s face lit up at the mention of his older sister. He’d had no one to talk with about his family for so long. He had made a few friends in Rutland who had asked questions, more out of politeness than curiosity, but his small group of college friends knew nothing about his history.

“You would love her, Armie. And she would love you. She’s an amazing person. She is fierce and funny and kind. I’m so lucky to have her as a sister, especially since… well, you know.”

Timmy told Armie all about how his sister was working her way through Julliard as a waitress, in the modern dance program there. He talked about how she tried so hard to get guardianship of Timmy after his parents died, but there was no way she could take care of Timmy and go to school at the same time. Staying at his Aunt Maeve’s for a few years seemed like the best option for everyone.

Armie asked about Timmy’s old life in Hell’s Kitchen, and Timmy’s parents… all the things he had wanted to know but hadn’t felt like he could ask yet. He finally felt like he had Timmy’s trust, and once Timmy started talking about his family and New York, it was like a dam that had been broken open. Armie soaked it all in, fascinated by an upbringing that was almost the complete opposite of his own. His parents were fair, open-minded and tolerant. Creativity and self-expression were encouraged in their home. Most amazing of all, Timmy’s parents knew that he was gay and totally supported him, with absolutely no judgement. Armie didn’t even know that parents like that existed.

Timmy got emotional at times, talking about his family, and Armie asked if he wanted to stop. But if felt cathartic for Timmy to share all his memories with Armie. His family was a huge part of who he was, and he didn’t think that anyone could truly and completely know him without knowing about his family and what they meant to him. And he wanted Armie to truly and completely know him.

They decided to pass on dessert and head home. There were still some chores to tend to, and another long day of work the following day. Armie paid the bill and as they walked out to the car, in the cover of dark, he slipped his hand into Timmy’s. At that moment, he felt closer to Timmy than anyone else in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, or have any thoughts at all, please leave a comment!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a smuffy, flutty, interlude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a bit of writer's block with the craziness of the holidays. Managed to finish this chapter, but just barely. Hope it's up to snuff!
> 
> Happy New Year to everyone! And thank you for your continued support!

Chapter Ten

Armie pulled up to the house, the farm dark except for his headlights and the glow of the full moon. He turned off his truck and faced Timmy.

“Hey, I had a really good time tonight. Should we do it again sometime?”

Timmy could just make out the outline of Armie’s handsome face in the darkened cab. “Anytime. I love it here at the house, but it was nice being out with you. I… like that you feel comfortable enough to go out in public with me.”

Armie reached over and caressed Timmy’s thigh. “You make me brave. I see what you’ve been through, and you still get up each morning with a smile on your face. What’s the worst that can happen? A few dirty looks? I can handle that.”

Timmy took off his seatbelt, surging up to press Armie into a grateful kiss, then wrapped his arms around Armie’s neck, hugging him as a child might hug a parent. “Thank you,” he murmured into Armie’s neck. _Thank you for accepting me, and helping me, and being something almost like family to me,_ he thought but didn’t say aloud. He only said again, “Thank you.”

The men jumped out of the truck and grabbed Timmy’s things from the back. Armie opened the door to an excited Archie, unused to being left alone for so many hours.

“Sorry, boy. You were worried, I bet,” Armie said as he crouched down to reassure his pup. Timmy walked his bag down to Armie’s room, then came back for the boxes.

“Should I put these in the guest room?” he asked, grabbing the smaller of the two boxes.

Armie straightened. “Unless there is anything you need soon? The rest you can store in the other bedroom.”

“Maybe tomorrow I can show you some of my family pictures?” Timmy asked, suddenly shy.

“There is nothing I would love more, Timmy,” Armie said as he grabbed the larger box.

They took Timmy's belongings down to the guest room, piling them in a corner for the moment. Timmy turned to leave, but Armie stopped him with his hand. There was something that he dreaded asking Timmy, but he had to know. He was gladly surrendering his heart to this boy, knowing that he would be gone one day. He had to know when that one day might be.

Timmy turned to him, a puzzled look on his face. “So.... " Armie started hesitantly, "I don’t know if this is the right time to ask this, but… when do you think you’ll be going back to New York? Are you close to saving what you need?”

A cloud passed over Timmy’s face that Armie couldn’t read. Disappointment, worry, sadness? Before he could interpret Timmy’s expression, it cleared, replaced by something guarded and distant.

Timmy shrugged. “Soon, I think. I need to talk to Pauline and find out how much she thinks I would need for a deposit, see if she knows anyone who needs a roommate. So… maybe another week?”

Armie felt like he had been punched in the gut. _A week?_ He tried to pull his mouth into a smile. “That’s great. Your sister is going to be so happy to see you.”

Timmy nodded slowly. “Yeah, she will.”

The two men looked at each other in the dark room, so many unsaid words hanging between them. Eventually Armie spun to return down the hallway. “I’m going to head out to the barn and check on the animals. You can unpack your things into my closet. There are a few spare hangers in there, I think.”

Timmy watched Armie walk down the hallway with a giant lump in his throat. Why had he said he’d be leaving in a week? A part of him still missed his sister and the city, but a bigger part of his heart and mind couldn’t imagine leaving Armie and the farm. What he _wanted_ , what he was hoping and waiting for was Armie to ask him to stay. He needed to hear that he was wanted and needed at this farm. There was no way Timmy could ever just invite himself to stay; to make that assumption that there was a permanent place for him here. But it tore his heart out to imagine not having Armie in his life anymore.

Timmy sighed and headed down to Armie’s room to unpack his things.

*****

Timmy unzipped his duffel, taking out his clothes, one piece at a time. It was like being reunited with old friends—first he carefully pulled out his favorite Versace button-up that he had lain on top. Next, he unpacked a few flannels, sweatshirts, and tee-shirts; several Tommy Hilfiger polo shirts in multiple colors; his Diesel and Guess jeans; his Nike sneakers and, at the very bottom of the bag, his beloved Doc Martens. He had left a few things that wouldn’t fit in the bag at his aunt’s house, but he had grabbed all his favorites. Most of it wouldn’t be too appropriate for working on the farm, but at least he had a few more tee-shirts to choose from each morning.

He was busy hanging up the dress shirt when Armie appeared in the doorway. He walked over to the closet, fingering the colorful, silky material of the Versace.

“Wow, so fancy. Where do you even wear something like this?”

Timmy shrugged. “To dinner, out with friends. Wherever. I didn’t wear it too much once I moved to Vermont, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I had bought it with my own money when I lived in New York.”

Armie nodded appreciatively. “It’s beautiful. I bet you look amazing in it. Will you try it on for me sometime?”

Timmy nodded shyly. “Of course. I could… try it on now for you?”

Armie grinned. “I’d like that, Timmy.”

Armie settled onto the bed, waiting for his fashion show. Timmy hid behind the closet door, pulling off Armie’s dress shirt and carefully re-hanging it in the closet. Then he took down the Versace shirt, bringing it to his face to smell and touch. It was a small piece of his New York life, and as silly and impractical as it seemed in the middle of this modest farm house, the shirt was still important to him. He slipped it on and carefully did up the buttons, then tucked it into his jeans. He combed his fingers through his curls, trying to tame them, then stepped out from behind the door for Armie to see.

Armie straightened on the bed as soon as Timmy stood before him. He felt as if he were seeing a new Timmy… or maybe a variation of who Timmy was before he lost his parents. He had filled out some in the few weeks since he had been at Armie’s from the physical work and regular meals. And now, with his hair slightly longer and wearing this beautiful form-fitting top, he no longer looked like the lost boy who had wandered onto Armie’s property looking for work. No, he was gorgeous--stunning even--and he was a _grown man_. He took Armie’s breath away in a way no other person ever had.

Timmy took Armie’s silence as distaste. “You don’t like it? I can change…”

“No! I mean, I like it. You look… beautiful, Timmy. Come closer.”

Timmy smiled as he closed the distance between the closet and Armie’s bed in a few strides. Armie sat up, turning to the side then pulling Timmy between his legs. He ran his hands up and down the smooth fabric on Timmy’s back.

“You look so good, Timmy,” he whispered. His entire body felt warm, and his heart fluttered in the way it always did when Timmy was close.

Timmy bent down to slowly run his tongue over Armie’s lips. Armie moaned softly, opening his mouth just enough to let Timmy’s tongue slip inside. Armie pulled Timmy to him, needing his solid form pressed against him. Timmy wrapped his hands around Armie’s neck and their kisses lit a fire deep inside Timmy. He felt himself growing hard, his body slowly getting worked up. Eventually he couldn’t take it, and he let one of his hands slide off of Armie’s neck, making its way between Armie’s legs.

Armie realized Timmy’s intentions and out of habit and instinct, pulled away, out of breath. “We… we should stop Timmy. It’s getting late.”

Timmy turned away from Armie in frustration, pressing the heel of his hand against his throbbing erection. “I know, I know. You’re right.”

Without turning back to Armie, he headed into the bathroom. “I need a minute,” he said, as he shut the door behind him.

Armie watched the bathroom door close, immediately filled with loss and regret. He constantly felt like he was in the middle of a tug-of-war between his mind and his body. All his body wanted was to throw Timmy down on the bed and rip his clothes off. But his insufferable sense of duty and an even less explicable feeling of guilt made him stop.

_He could be gone in a week, and you’ll never have this night back again,_ an inner voice chided him. He suddenly realized that it was true. He had this moment in time with Timmy that he might never have again. It would be crazy to ignore it and go to bed.

He hurried to the bathroom door, tapping on it a few times.

“Yeah?” Timmy’s voice was breathless. Armie wondered what he was doing in there.

“Timmy, will you let me in?”

The door flung open and Timmy was in front of him, his face flush.

“I was waiting for it to pass,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was trying to think of other things, but it’s very difficult knowing that you’re right outside this door.”

“I’m an idiot, Timmy. Come back to bed with me?” Armie couldn’t voice everything that he wanted to say. That Timmy gave him thoughts that he had never had before. That he was frightened of the things that he wanted to do to him. That the acts that he had been told all his life were sinful were the very acts that he fantasized doing with Timmy almost every night.

Timmy nodded. “Just to sleep. You were right. It’s late and we have plenty of time for other stuff.”

_No, we don’t,_ Armie yelled back inside his head, but he only nodded.

A few minute later, as they drifted off to sleep, Timmy enfolded in Armie’s embrace, remorse at the missed opportunity seeped into every pore of Armie’s body.

*****

The next day was unseasonably warm. The men had a quick breakfast and completed their morning chores, then Armie sent Timmy to the barn to rake and bundle the hay that was drying there while he went out to the fields.

Timmy was his usual happy, sweet self, but regret from the night before was still weighing on Armie. He shook it off as he headed out to the fields. He had too much work to get done to worry about personal stuff with Timmy. He let his mind wander as he drove the tractor through the fields, thinking about his and Beth’s parents and Aunt Maeve, and his religious upbringing. He tried to reconcile what was engrained in him to believe with what he truly--deep in his heart--thought was true. He came to the conclusion that there was no way that _who_ you chose to love, and _how_ , made you a bad person. Love is love.

He had loved Beth in one way, but he was falling for Timmy in a way that was totally different--exhilarating and terrifying. The way he felt when Timmy was close to him, and the almost obsessive way his mind would return to thoughts of Timmy when they were apart, was scary and also addicting. These feelings were incredibly distracting to Armie, but he found that he couldn’t stop them.

He eventually shook these thoughts off, instead trying to focus on organizing his afternoon delivery schedule in his mind. But eventually, his mind drifted to the fact that Timmy would be with him, and how much more pleasant that made the drive to the farms. He wondered what music Timmy would choose, and pictured how cute he looked in the passenger seat.

Armie laughed to himself when he realized that, one again, he was daydreaming about Timmy. He finally gave into it, letting his thoughts wander where they wanted for the rest of the morning.

*****

A few hours later, Armie was pulling back in front of the barn with a truckload of hay. The sun was high in the sky; it was almost noon and quite warm for late March. He jumped out of the cab of the truck to check in with Timmy to see if he was ready for lunch.

He headed into the barn, stopping to give Molly and Madeleine some attention. The cavernous space was filled with sunlight and much warmer than outside. Armie petted the goats, then tugged off his jacket, listening for sounds of Timmy working at the same time. The back of the barn was quiet.

Armie bade the goats goodbye and entered the back room where Timmy was baling hay. The room was hot and humid, and at first Armie didn’t see Timmy. But then he spied him to the side, his back to Armie, drinking from his thermos. Just like the first day he had come to work for Armie, he had rid himself of his shirt and was working in only a thin white tank top. Armie stopped to admire the new definition in his arms and his long, slim back.

Armie was suddenly taken back to that first afternoon in his barn. He recalled the intense physical reaction he had had to seeing Timmy like that. It had been so confusing to him that day, and he had pushed those feelings down deep into his belly, trying to ignore what was now so obvious to him: that he wanted Timmy. He _still_ wanted Timmy, but now… he was Armie’s for the taking.

_You missed your chance last night. Don’t make the same mistake again,_ he chided himself.

He couldn’t wait another moment. He strode over to Timmy, the hay crackling loudly under his feet. Timmy turned to him with a huge smile. “Armie,” he greeted him happily.

Armie stood in front of Timmy, drinking in the sight of him. That familiar _want_ coursed through his body.

“How was the…” Timmy started, but Armie stopped him with a deep kiss, pressing him against the wall of the barn.

Armie pulled back, out of breath, having eyes for nothing but Timmy. Timmy blinked, waiting to see what Armie would do, his heart beating out of his chest. It was Armie’s rule to not mix work and pleasure, but Timmy was more than willing to forget that rule entirely, if that was what Armie wanted. Armie fell on Timmy again, sucking on his neck, his pelvis rocking into Timmy. Timmy leaned back against the wall, welcoming it all. Armie eventually pulled back again, shaking his head at himself, giving a helpless chuckle.

“Fuck, Timmy,” was all he could murmur. He had spent the morning fixating on Timmy, and now he finally surrendered to that. He suddenly sunk to his knees, kneeling in front of Timmy as if to worship him. He gazed up at him, seeking permission to try something he had never done. Timmy nodded quickly, speechless at first, but then gasped, “You don’t have to, Armie...”

“I want to, Timmy. I’m not stopping myself from the things I want anymore,” he answered, his fingers already fumbling with Timmy’s jeans. The button sprung open, and Timmy shimmied his jeans down to his hips, the warm air feeling good as it hit his skin. Seeing Armie on his knees in front of him was clouding his brain, and he didn’t care if this was the right thing to do or not.

Armie gently pulled Timmy’s swollen cock from his jeans, as if it were a fragile thing. His skin was velvety and smelled earthy; beads of cum were bubbling out of the tip already. It was long and not as thick as Armie’s… Armie thought it was beautiful. He leaned forward and slowly licked around the head. It was soft and spongy and tasted as it smelled—masculine and pungent. Armie immediately wanted more.

“I’m so sweaty,” Timmy said apologetically.

“I _so_ don’t give a fuck, Timmy,” Armie answered, taking the head into his mouth, just to show Timmy how much he wanted this, too.

Timmy gasped again and grabbed a fistful of Armie’s hair, resisting the urge to push his mouth further down onto his shaft. Armie’s head began to bob on Timmy’s dick, taking a bit more into his mouth with each plunge. His teeth scraped once or twice, but not enough to hurt. Timmy was so turned on, seeing Armie on his knees in front of him, but at the same time, so proud of him for being brave enough to chase his desires and take this step. Then Armie’s tongue dragged up the length of Timmy’s cock, and Timmy could only think of that.

Armie adjusted himself on the ground. The hay was poking into his knees and Timmy had a death grip on his hair, but he would live in this moment forever if he could. Timmy was moaning in pleasure above him and Armie felt a lightness, a freedom, at taking a risk and living his life honestly. He cupped Timmy’s balls with one hand and tightened his lips around Timmy’s erection. He was rewarded with another happy moan from above.

“Armie, I’m gonna come soon,” Timmy warned between pants. “You don’t have to… you know.”

Armie nodded, his mouth not leaving Timmy’s warm flesh for a moment. If he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right. He took almost Timmy’s entire length into his mouth, feeling it hit the back of his throat. He started to gag and pulled off a bit, but then took it all again, and then again. Timmy’s erection seemed to pulse and grow inside his mouth and he knew from his own orgasms that he should prepare. Timmy gasped from above and rolled his hips into Armie’s mouth, and suddenly his mouth filled with slippery hot liquid. He let the release fill his mouth and then swallowed it all down in one too-big gulp. He coughed a bit, pulling off to wipe his mouth.

Armie sat back on his haunches, proud of himself. Timmy was catching his breath above him, his spent cock hanging obscenely out of his jeans, still red and half-hard. Armie couldn’t help himself—he pushed up Timmy’s shirt, kissing his belly, running his hand up Timmy’s back. He had just had it all, yet he still wanted _more._

Timmy laughed softly, still breathing heavily. “I like this new rule,” he said.

Armie glanced up at him. “Not a new rule. Just… sometimes we can have exceptions.” He pushed himself up from the barn floor as Timmy tucked himself back into his jeans.

“Exceptions? Yeah? Like when?” Timmy asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Like when I walk into the barn, and you’re half-naked, looking like an entire feast.”

Timmy smirked, pulling Armie to him. “Do I get to make exceptions, too, then? Like when you come in from the fields all sweaty, looking like pure sex?”

Armie pushed a lock of hair out of Timmy’s eyes. It was getting long. Armie liked it a lot. He sighed. “We are obviously going to have to come up with some new rules. Otherwise we are never getting anything done around here.”

Timmy grinned and took his hand. “That’s ok. Some things are more important than work. Now come on, let’s go eat lunch. I’m starving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you've read, or have any thoughts at all, please leave a comment! Thank you! xoxox


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend more time getting closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an emotional chapter to write. Hope I was able to convey everything I had in my brain!
> 
> As always, thank you all for your incredible support. I love these boys, and it is so fun to write them somewhere besides LA or NYC!

Chapter Eleven

“How does grilled cheese and tomato soup sound for lunch?” Armie asked as he yanked off his work boots.

“Really good. Do I have time for a quick shower? I’m sticky and I _stink,_ ” Timmy said, taking a whiff of himself and scrunching his nose.

“Sure. You’ve got like ten minutes.”

Armie watched as Timmy disappeared down the hallway, pulling off his sweatshirt as he walked. Armie was still half-hard from giving Timmy head, but he figured that if he ignored it and started to cook, it would calm down. A moment later, the pipes clanged as the shower turned on. Armie’s erection, which had finally started softening, began to fill again at the thought of a bare Timmy standing under the cascade of water.

“Fuck,” Armie muttered, squeezing his increasingly rigid cock through his jeans. He didn’t have time for this. He tried again to shake it off while he puttered around the kitchen preparing lunch. But after setting down the bread and soup, and taking out the butter and cheese, the siren call of a wet, naked Timmy was too much to ignore.

Armie could hear Timmy singing a Pearl Jam song in the shower, enthusiastic but slightly off-tune, as he walked down the hall towards the bathroom. Timmy had left the door open a crack for ventilation, but Armie still tapped lightly it to be respectful.

“Hey, I just need to piss. Is that okay?” He decided that was a plausible ruse.

“Of course!” Timmy’s yelled cheerfully over the gushing water. Armie smirked to himself, knowing why Timmy was in such a good mood. A feeling of pride shot through his body as he stepped into the foggy bathroom.

Timmy’s head popped out from behind the curtain, his hair dripping wet. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” he asked with a mischievous smile.

Armie turned back to face Timmy. The bathroom air was hot and damp and made Armie want to shed some clothing. He took a step closer. “Don’t tempt me, Timmy. I left the stove on, and we don’t want to burn down the house.”

Timmy eyes swept over Armie, pausing at his obvious erection. “It’s going to be difficult to concentrate on lunch with that going on. Come here.”

Armie licked his lips and glanced at the door. “Timmy…”

Timmy rolled his eyes. “ _Armie_ ,” he answered in a slightly mocking tone. “Come _here_.”

Armie realized that resistance was futile and he took a step closer so that he was within Timmy’s reach. “Unbutton your jeans,” Timmy directed.

Armie paused for a half-a second, then decided _fuck it_ and did as he was told. He yanked down the zipper and slipped his hand inside to grasp his now fully-hard member.

Timmy let go of the shower curtain, letting it fall open, revealing his entire lithe form. Water sprayed out of the shower, hitting Armie, but he didn’t even notice. He brain was much too occupied with cataloguing every inch of Timmy’s exposed flesh to care about a little water.

Timmy poured some shampoo onto his hand and began to massage it onto his scalp. Armie squeezed his cock as he watched Timmy work his hair into a lather.

“Just take of yourself, Armie,” he said softy. “You’ll feel better after, I promise.”

Timmy tilted his head back to rinse out the shampoo, letting the rivulets of water stream down the length of his body. Armie’s mouth went dry at the sight. He began to slide his hand up and down on his dick, slowly at first. He had never done this in front of someone before, but this _someone_ was Timmy. Everything he did with Timmy was somehow okay. Timmy cracked opened one eye to peer out at Armie.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” he practically purred as he grabbed the soap, working it into a bubbly lather. He slowly ran it over his firm torso, as if putting on a show for Armie.

Armie’s hand picked up speed as his body began to tingle and spark. He stepped back to lean against the sink, not trusting his legs to keep him upright as he watched Timmy soap up his own thickening erection.

“I wanna see you come. Please come for me,” Timmy begged, his fist starting to move on his own slick cock.

The room fell silent except for the sound of the shower, their labored breathing, and an occasional expletive. They kept their eyes on each other, their hands now stroking almost in unison. The sight of Timmy pleasuring himself was too much for Armie, and he reached climax first with a shout, his knees buckling as his release covered his fist. Timmy came soon after, so incredibly turned on by what he had just witnessed.

Their eyes stayed locked for another moment as they caught their breath, then Armie glanced down at the mess on his hands. “Fuck, I better clean up,” he said, turning to the sink. He washed his hands and buckled up his jeans.

Timmy’s shower had grown lukewarm by then. He quickly rinsed off his sticky hand and the rest of his soapy body, then turned off the water.

Armie appeared in front of him with two towels, handing him one. “This one is for the drenched floor,” he said with a grin, throwing it down. Timmy took the towel, wrapping it around his shoulders, then leaning forward to steal a kiss from Armie.

“I’m sorry I’m such a distraction,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” Armie answered, kissing the top of Timmy’s nose. “I only regret that I don’t have time right now for my own shower. Now hurry up and get dressed. We’ve got less than an hour before we have to start the deliveries.”

Armie headed back to the kitchen, blissed out and walking on air. Going to visit Timmy in the shower had proven to be an excellent decision.

****

The men settled in at the table with their grilled cheese and soup. Timmy’s hair was clinging to his head in damp curls and his cheeks were flush from the hot shower. Armie could barely take his eyes off of him.

“You are so beautiful,” Armie said to him honestly.

“Stop.” Timmy ducked his head in embarrassment.

“No, you are. When we get back this afternoon, will you show me your family photos? I need to see the origin of those green eyes and that ridiculous jawline.”

Timmy glanced up with a small smile. “I look a bit like both my mom and dad, but I mostly look like my grandmother, Enid. The one who was a dancer.”

“I can’t wait to see.” Armie’s smile was soft, his eyes fond. He finally tore his eyes away from Timmy, taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

“Do you look like your dad?” Timmy ventured. “I didn’t see much of a resemblance to your mom. Although I have to admit, I didn’t get a really good look at her, trembling in terror as I was.”

Armie swallowed and shrugged. “A bit. I think I look most like my grandfather, Armand. He was tall and very Eastern European-looking, like me.”

Timmy smirked. “Was he unspeakably hot, too?”

Armie balled up his napkin and threw it at Timmy. “Hey, that’s my grandfather you’re talking about! But yeah, he could get some.” He grinned back at Timmy.

They finished up lunch, filling the sink with their plates, then headed out to the barn to load the truck with the hay bales for delivery. They worked quickly, now used to acting as a team. They had an efficient system in place, with Timmy loading bales on a dolly in the barn, then wheeling them out to Armie to throw onto the truck. They had the bed of the truck filled in less than twenty-minutes and were off to their first farm, Led Zeppelin on the radio.

*****

Two hours later, the men were pulling back into the farm. They had a few smaller chores to tend to, but then the afternoon was theirs.

“You go shower. I’ll finish up,” Timmy offered.

“You sure?” Armie sometimes wondered how he was going to manage once Timmy was gone. He had started to really rely on him.

“Of course. Go on.”

Armie left to shower, and change into comfortable clothes. When he was done, he walked into the living room to find Timmy on the couch with a box next to him, and pictures spread across the top of the coffee table. Some were black and white, a few were very old and yellowing, and the rest appeared to be more recent. Armie picked up one of a tiny girl in a bathing suit with brown hair and Timmy’s smile.

“Pauline?”

Timmy grinned. “That’s her. Wasn’t she cute? She’s about 4 in that picture, at the beach. I think my nana took it. Wait, hold on….”

Timmy searched through the pictures until he found the one he was looking for. He handed it to Armie—it was an older picture of a young lady with a dark bob haircut. She had stunning eyes, and her resemblance to Timmy was uncanny.

“That’s my nana, Enid. I think she was about my age in that picture, just starting out on Broadway.”

Armie couldn’t take his eyes off of the picture. “Wow, Timmy. She is really beautiful. And she could be your twin.”

Timmy grinned. “I know. She used to love to tell me that, too. I was her favorite.”

Armie glanced up at him. “I bet. Although I’m sure your sister didn’t love that.”

Timmy shrugged, looking through the mess of pictures again. “Pauline doesn’t care about stuff like that. Oh, look. This one is all four of us!”

Timmy held the picture, taking it in for a moment before handing it over to Armie. Armie could see a cloud of sadness pass over his face as he looked at his mother and father. Armie took the picture, incredibly grateful that Timmy was sharing this with him, and Timmy leaned on his shoulder.

There were four people in the picture, sitting around a restaurant table. Timmy was younger, but honestly didn’t look much different that he currently did. Armie looked closely at Timmy’s parents… the missing puzzle pieces. They both had kind eyes and open smiles, just like Timmy. They were handsome people, and the four of them just looked… complete. They were the very picture of a happy, functional, supportive family. Armie wasn’t sure if he had ever seen such a family before.

And it broke his heart knowing that these amazing people were gone from Timmy’s life.

“This was the last picture taken of all four of us.” Timmy's voice was soft.

Armie squeezed his shoulder. “Your parents look like wonderful people. I’m so sorry they are gone.”

Timmy nodded and said nothing for several seconds, his head down as if he were still looking at the picture. But then a single teardrop fell onto the photograph. Timmy quickly wiped at his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t take these out to cry over them.”

Armie quickly wrapped an arm around Timmy, pulling him closer. “Timmy, don’t you dare apologize. Of course these pictures are stirring up feelings for you. It’s okay to feel sad. _Really_. I don’t want you to hide those feelings from me.”

Suddenly, Timmy turned to Armie, burying his face in the crook of his arm. A sob escaped from somewhere deep inside of him, then another, and another. Armie put his other arm around him, holding him and keeping him safe. Timmy then began to weep in earnest--mostly over his lost parents, but also his sister, his home, and his entire old life.

Armie lost track of time as Timmy let out what was most likely two years of pent-up grief. His body shook with powerful sobs. Armie was so happy that he could be there for Timmy, because all he ever wanted to do was lessen Timmy’s pain. Timmy’s cries eventually began to slow and then stopped altogether, until all that was left were sniffles and hiccups. Armie reached a long arm over to the end table and grabbed a tissue.

“Here you go,” he offered gently.

Timmy took the tissue gratefully, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. He sat up to look at Armie.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his voice still hoarse from crying. “I… I just miss them so much.”

Armie leaned over to kiss the top of his forehead. “Of course you do, Timmy. Of course you do.”

****

Timmy fell asleep on Armie’s shoulder, worn out from his cry. Awhile later, he woke up and finished showing Armie pictures of his family, and even a few of his friends Will and Giullian, but they didn’t seem to affect him so much anymore. He had let out most of his sad feelings, and was able to tell happy and funny stories to go along with the photos. By the time they had looked through all of them, Armie felt like he knew Timmy’s family, and he couldn’t wait to meet Pauline. He only hoped that one day he would be able to.

They had a quick dinner of leftover stew and then Timmy did the dishes while Armie dried. He was quieter than usual as he scrubbed the plates, and once they were done, he turned to Armie.

“Looking at those pictures has made me realize that I really need to reach out to my sister. I haven’t talked to her in weeks. Is it okay if I give her a call? I know it’s long distance. I can give you some money…”

“Nonsense, Timmy. Of course you can call her, and talk as long as you’d like. I’ll go into the bedroom to give some privacy.”

Timmy reached over to take Armie’s hand. “Thank you, Armie. You… you are so good to me. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

Armie shook his head. “Timmy, I don’t do these things for thanks. I do it because…”

Armie paused, suddenly scared at what he was about to say. He abruptly changed course. “I want you to enjoy your talk with your sister and not worry about the cost.”

He gave Timmy a quick peck, then retreated to his bedroom with Archie to try and read his book, and wait to hear how the call went.

An hour later, Timmy came into the room, a huge smile on his face. He sat on the bed by Armie’s legs.

“It went well?”

“Oh Armie, it was so good to talk to her! She was initially very suspicious of you, but when I told her how you came to help me with Aunt Maeve, she realized that you’re a good guy. She really wants to meet you. Then we just starting catching up and it was like old times. I didn’t realize how much I missed her.”

Armie squeezed Timmy’s thigh with a smile. “That is so great. Please call her anytime, Timmy. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Well…” Timmy’s smile suddenly faltered. “She said she was happy I had called because one of her classmates just had a room become vacant in their apartment. He’s looking for a new roommate immediately. Like, next week.”

Timmy paused to take a deep breath. “She said it’s mine if I want it. And I have enough money saved. So, I guess… I guess it’s time for me to go back to New York,” he concluded with a sad smile.

And just like that, Armie’s world collapsed in on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, or have any thoughts on it at all, please leave a comment. It means so much to us writers to get feedback on our writing. Thank you!!! xoxox


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk, then talk some more.
> 
> Note the little CMBYN call-back <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this sooner, as I knew people were a bit upset at how the last chapter ended. Hopefully this chapter will set everyone's minds at ease. Thank you all for your loyal readership!

Chapter Twelve

“So, I guess… I guess it’s time for me to go back to New York,” Timmy concluded with a sad smile.

“That’s… great, Timmy.” Armie dug deep to fake happiness at the news he had been dreading to hear for weeks now. “Your sister will be so happy to have you back.”

Timmy nodded slowly, his eyes fastened on Armie, silently begging him to ask Timmy to stay. He knew Armie well enough by now to read his face—he was upset by this news, but he stayed silent. Timmy felt caught. He didn’t want to go, and he was fairly sure that Armie wanted him to stay. But neither of them seemed willing to be the first to admit that and risk rejection.

_It’s time to speak or die,_ he thought grimly.

“I just worry… about you and the farm. Will you be alright without me?” he asked hesitantly.

But Armie wouldn’t bite. He nodded forcefully. “Of course, Timmy. It will be more work, of course, but I don’t want you to worry about that for even a moment. I'll be okay.”

Timmy sighed in frustration. Armie was determined to assure Timmy that his leaving was fine by him, even when his face told a different story. Timmy wasn’t sure what else to say.

He pushed off from the bed. “Well, as long as you’re sure. I don’t want to leave you short-handed. I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

****

Later that night, Timmy struggled to fall asleep, his mind replaying his conversation with Armie on a loop. He was sorely homesick for New York and his sister, but he felt stronger than ever that he belonged on this farm with Armie. But perhaps he had overestimated Armie’s feeling for him, and he didn’t feel the same after all? Timmy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to physically force his brain to shut down.

Armie shifted a bit as he dozed, pulling Timmy closer to his chest. Timmy envied his ability to sleep, wondering if he would ever drift off. But then a low murmur rumbled from behind him, so quiet Timmy wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

“Don’t go.”

Timmy froze. Did Armie really say that, or was Timmy imagining things in an insomnia-induced delirium?

He waited a few seconds to see if Armie would repeat himself. When he remained silent, Timmy whispered, “What…?”

More silence.

Just as Timmy was deciding that he must have imagined it, Armie spoke again, his voice incrementally louder. “Don’t go, Timmy.”

Timmy’s heart stopped.

“You… you want me to stay?”

Armie heaved a deep sigh, as if he were giving in to something he had been resisting. He sounded more sure and awake when he answered. “I do.”

Timmy felt his eyes well with tears, overcome with emotion at Armie’s unexpected declaration. He was silent for a moment as he tried to get his feelings under control.

“I... I’d like that,” he finally replied, his voice ragged with exhaustion and relief.

Armie took Timmy by his shoulder and turned his body so they were facing each other. He pulled Timmy tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around his back, so the fronts of their bodies were flush against each other. Timmy melted into his embrace, the weight of his earlier dilemma finally lifting off of him.

“We can talk tomorrow,” Armie murmured into Timmy’s hair, his lips vibrating against his curls.

“Thank you, Armie,” Timmy whispered, blinking away the last of his tears and finally drifting off to sleep.

*****

Armie woke very early the next morning, Timmy still asleep against his torso, and his first thought was _He is staying._ His chest filled with warmth, and he took a second to think about what this would mean for them. That he no longer had to plan for Timmy’s absence. That they could somehow start to forge a future together. And that they would probably eventually have to start telling people about their relationship.

That thought sent a chill through him. He wondered who his mother had told, and he knew that, with the way juicy gossip spread in their small town, most likely half of Rutland knew something about him and Timmy already. It was only a matter of time before something was said to one of them.

Armie realized that he wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. He carefully extricated himself from Timmy, and climbed out of bed to go make a large, much-needed pot of coffee. Timmy shifted but continued to snore; there was still an hour before he had to get up.

Armie was sipping his first mug of coffee on the couch when a sleepy Timmy appeared at the end of the hallway, yawning mightily.

“I woke up and you were gone,” he mumbled accusingly.

“I couldn’t sleep any more. There’s coffee made if you’d like some.”

Timmy trudged to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He poured himself a large mug then settled in beside Armie on the couch. He took a large sip of the steaming beverage, and looked up, his face more alert.

“Did you mean what said last night?” he asked nervously, without preamble. He needed assurance in the reality of morning that this is what Armie truly wanted.

Armie set down his mug and slid closer to Timmy on the couch. He took a deep breath for courage. He had to tell Timmy how he really felt. It was time.

“Timmy, these last few weeks with you have been the best of my entire life. _God_ , that sounds so cliché, but it’s true. You’ve given me a reason to get up in the morning. All the boring, dreary chores that I used to dread I now enjoy because I’m doing them with _you_. I told you a few days ago that I think of you as a partner, and that is more true than ever. But Timmy, I don’t just want you to be my partner with the farm… I want you to be my partner like…. in _life_.”

Armie’s heart was pounding. He was terrified that this was all too much, too soon. That Timmy was too young or didn’t feel quite the same. He was going to scare him off, lose him again. But if he wasn’t going to be honest with Timmy, what was the point? The reality was that he was asking Timmy to stay with him indefinitely because... he was in love with him. The realization hit Armie like a freight train. _He was in love with Timmy_.

He waited for Timmy to respond, feeling as if he might die if Timmy were to reject him. But Timmy’s face lit up, an elated smile spreading across his face.

“That’s what I want too, Armie. I miss New York, but I feel so at home here. With you, and Archie, and Oliver, and Molly and Maddie…”

Armie laughed. “Oh, I see! You just love me for my animals!”

He realized what he had just said, and opened his mouth to somehow take it back, but Timmy stared intently at Armie and said softly, “No Armie. I love you for you.”

Armie’s stomach erupted in a flurry of butterflies at Timmy’s words. “I love you, too, Timmy.”

Was it too soon? Armie didn’t care. He wanted to wake up to these green eyes for the rest of his life if he could. That was all he cared about at that moment.

Armie leaned down and pressed his lips against Timmy’s, wanting to somehow communicate every emotion in his heart with a kiss. _You have saved me. You have showed me how to live again. You have taught me what true love it. You are everything to me._

He pulled back and they took a minute to look into each other’s eyes with a new understanding. They were no longer hiding how they felt, and they felt the same. They were at the start of something--together.

Armie broke the moment first. “Let’s get some breakfast. We have a busy day.”

The men carried on their morning as normal, but there was a lightness to everything they did, as if a dark cloud that they hadn’t even known had existed had dissipated. Armie found himself kissing Timmy even more than usual, and he wondered if he would be able to follow his “no kissing during work” rules that day. He wondered if they should amend the rule to allow kisses in the truck…

That afternoon, they loaded up the truck and headed out for deliveries. 

“I guess you’ll need to call Pauline and tell her you won’t be needing that room?” Armie asked, his eyes not leaving the road.

Timmy nodded slowly, his thoughts on his sister. “I was thinking…. I might go to New York to see her. It’s been so long, and I have the money saved up. Can you spare me for a few days?”

Armie nodded immediately. “Of course, Timmy. I think that’s a wonderful idea.” He paused, working something out in his head. “What would you think about me coming with you?”

Timmy spun in his seat to face Armie. “Really? I would _love_ that, Armie! But… how would you manage that? You can’t leave the farm and the animals.”

“My brother Viktor owes me a favor. He can’t help with harvesting and baling the hay, so we would have extra work to do before we went and when we got back, but he can take care of the animals for a few days.”

Timmy unbuckled his seatbelt and flew to Armie’s side of the truck cab, grabbing him into a joyous hug.

“Oh my god, Armie… I can’t wait to show you New York! You can meet my sister and maybe some of my friends, and I can show you all my old haunts. I can’t believe I get to have everything I love all in one place.”

Armie laughed as he tried to keep the truck on the road. “I can’t wait, too, Timmy. Now buckle your seatbelt before you get us both killed.” Armie’s heart was so full, it felt overflowing. He had never experienced this kind of happiness before; he felt almost unworthy.

Timmy slid back to his side of the seat, quiet with emotion. “Thank you, Armie.”

Armie glanced over at Timmy, giving him a gentle smile. “It will be great.”

*****

They made their first delivery, then headed to the second farm in the next town over. Timmy had created a diversion for delivery days that he called “The Radio Game,” where they had to name the title and band every time a new song came on the radio. Whoever named both first got a point. Timmy usually knew newer songs, while Armie was faster with classic rock. Armie refused to play the game on the classical station.

“I know Beethoven’s Fifth and the Wedding March,” he explained when Timmy tried to turn the dial to that station. “Totally unfair.”

“Yeah, but think of how much you would learn! I could teach you how to differentiate between a Chopin waltz and a Bach minuet.”

“Not today,” Armie retorted, changing the station back to rock. “Queen, We Will Rock You,” he said after the first few notes played.

“Not fair, you didn’t even give me a chance! That one was easy,” Timmy pouted.

Armie grinned as they turned down the road for the next farm. “Don’t be a baby. You don’t want me to let you win, right?”

Timmy rolled his eyes. “You’re only winning by two points. We’re listening to WEQX after this delivery.”

Armie chuckled, turning off the ignition.. “That’s fine. That just means I know I have to guess either Nirvana, Radiohead, or Pearl Jam for every song.”

“You’re an ass,” Timmy retorted as he climbed out of the truck.

“You love it.”

They started to unload the hay, waiting for Jameson, the farmhand who usually helped them, to appear. Instead, Mr. Paulson, the owner of the farm, came out of the barn and headed towards them. His face was contorted in a displeased expression. Armie set down the bale of hay he was holding and put out a hand to greet him.

“Tom. Good to see you. What brings you out today?”

Mr. Paulson shook Armie’s hand, but the expression on his face didn’t change. “Armie.” He nodded briefly to Timmy.

“My wife was at a church meeting with your mother the other day. She told me something a bit concerning.”

Armie stiffened. “Is that so? And was it anything that was either of your business?”

Mr. Paulson’s eyes narrowed. “Who I do business with _is_ my business. I only work with God-fearing people, who follow God’s laws. Betsy tells me that you are shacking up with this boy. I need to know if that’s true.”

Armie’s pressed his lips together in a tight line. This interaction wasn’t unexpected at all, but it was still unpleasant.

“Mr. Paulson, I deliver hay to you, and that is all you need to know about me. My personal life is of absolutely no concern to you, nor are my religious beliefs. Now, if you’d like to sever our business relationship, I will be sad to lose you as a customer. But I am _not_ going to be questioned about my personal life by you.”

The two men stared at each other, locked in a stand-off. Timmy stood back, trying to be unobtrusive, his stomach in knots. He was in awe of the way Armie handled this terrible man so calmly and professionally.

After what felt like an eternity to Timmy, Mr. Paulson finally spoke. “Well… I can’t say I approve, but you’re right. I need quality hay and you got quality hay. I’ll send Jameson out to help ya, and I’ll tell Betsy to mind her own damn business. Good day.”

Mr. Paulson turned on his heels and strode back to his barn. Armie breathed out in relief.

“That was inevitable, but it still sucked. I saw Betsy in the living room that day, and knew she would tell Tom. I thought for sure he was going to sever ties with me. Turned out better that I hoped.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Timmy felt a bit blind-sided. He had no idea that this was going to happen.

“I didn’t want to worry you. It might have been nothing.”

Timmy stepped closer to Armie, grabbing his arm. “Armie, if we’re going to be partners, you need to tell me things like this. Please don’t try to protect me. I can handle it.”

Armie’s face crumpled with guilt. “You’re right. Of course you can, Timmy. I… I’m not used to sharing the responsibilities of the farm with someone. But I guess that needs to change now, huh?”

Just then, Jameson appeared from the barn. Timmy grinned at Armie as he slipped on his work gloves. “Yup. You’re stuck with me now.”

The men finished their deliveries without another incident and headed back home.

“Was it just me, or were Meg and John smiling at us extra wide today?” Timmy had appreciated their friendliness, but it had felt almost over the top.

“They’re from Brooklyn, really progressive. I think they wanted us to know that they support us, in their own subtle way.” He shrugged. “I think it’s sweet.”

“I’m just glad that the entire town isn’t coming for us with torches and pitchforks.”

Armie couldn’t contain his snort at Timmy’s observation. “Yeah. Me, too.” He turned on the radio, a classic rock song immediately blaring from his speakers. “Blue Oyster Cult. Burning for You.”

Timmy groaned. “How do know this shit?”

Armie grinned smugly as they sped down the country road. Things felt complete.

*****

Armie made hamburgers for dinner, showing Timmy how to form the patties and light the charcoal grill. “You need to learn these things,” he explained, as Timmy struggled to get the pile of briquettes lit.

“I know, and I want to. It’s only fair that I cook sometimes, and I can’t make pasta every night. Oh, success!” He stood back to admire his handiwork as the small mountain of coal began to burn. “I want to expand my culinary repertoire.”

The two men watched the grill for a moment, then Armie said casually, “I think we should expand our repertoire, too. You know… other places.”

Timmy almost choked at Armie’s insinuation. He turned to catch a glimpse of his face but it was growing dark and difficult to see his expression. Timmy guessed that he probably looked either really embarrassed or really pleased with himself. Possibly both.

_“Really_? You know I am all over that. But… what exactly did you have in mind?”

Armie shifted his weight and now Timmy could tell that he was definitely a little uncomfortable. “You know.”

Timmy laughed. “Probably, but I don’t want to assume, Armie.”

Armie heaved a great sigh, then leaned down to whisper into Timmy’s ear. “Anal.”

Then Timmy did choke, letting out a snort of laughter so loud that Archie began to bark. Armie started to laugh then, as well.

“Are you laughing because you don’t _want_ to?” he said with a small bit of snark, knowing that that wasn’t the case.

“ _NO!_ It’s just… the way you said it. I mean, how you just _said_ it. But… I do want to, Armie,” Timmy said, suddenly serious.

He stepped closer to Armie, putting his arms around him so that his hands rested on his back, pressing his chest against Armie’s torso. “Of course, I do.” He slid his hands down to the generous curve of Armie’s ass and squeezed lightly.

Armie hummed in approval, but then leaned down to murmur into Timmy’s hair. “I didn’t mean right now.” 

He pulled away swatting Timmy’s behind. “Grab the burgers. The charcoal is ready.”

Timmy turned to grab the plate of meat, grumbling, “I didn’t mean right now, either.”

*****

A half-hour later, the men were diving into their burgers, salt potatoes, and salad. Timmy worried that the burgers were too well-done, but Armie assured him that they were perfect. Timmy’s libido was still a bit ignited from their previous conversation. He was having trouble getting his mind out of the gutter.

He swallowed his bite of burger then ventured, “So, when did you know that you were interested in me... in that way?”

Armie’s eyebrows shot to his hairline at Timmy’s question. He set down his burger to give it some proper consideration.

“Well, I definitely noticed you that second day, when you were shirtless in the barn.”

“I knew it!” Timmy grinned triumphantly.

“Okay, okay, don’t let it go to your head,” he laughed. “But I didn’t really start thinking of you as anything but someone helping out at the farm until the second night.”

It was Timmy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Go on,” he prodded when Armie stopped speaking.

Armie sighed. “It’s really embarrassing. Okay, here goes…. I was having trouble sleeping because, um, reasons. So I got up to get some water and I, um… heard you.”

Armie glanced up at Timmy, worried that he might be upset at this story, but he had a small smirk on his face. He nodded in encouragement for Armie to continue.

“I knew what you were doing, and I should have walked away. But I… I listened to you outside your door.”

Timmy bit his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. “Really?”

“Wait, there’s more,” Armie admitted miserably. “I listened and I… joined in.”

Timmy’s mouth dropped open at that. “You _did_? I didn’t realize that you were out there getting off, too. Oh my god, Armie. That is really hot.”

Armie’s face furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean… you didn’t realize I was out there, getting off, too?”

It was Timmy’s turn to flush with embarrassment. “I knew you were out there. I heard you in the kitchen and then I heard your footsteps outside my door. I may have… been a little extra loud for you. Put on a bit of a show. But _fuck_ Armie, if I had known that you were outside my door, jerking _off_? Oh my god, I think things would have happened between us a lot sooner!”

“It’s probably good that you didn’t know then. You would have scared me off, for sure. So… when did _you_ know?”

Timmy grinned. “The second I was close enough on the road to get a good look at you that first night. I immediately began to fantasize dirty things about the hot farmer.”

Armie shook his head with a smile, stabbing a salt potato with his fork. “What am I going to do with you, Timmy?”

Timmy covered coquettishly covered his mouth, grinning almost maniacally. “Fuck me, apparently.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you have read, or have any thoughts at all on this chapter, please leave a comment!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy and Armie leave for New York City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had most of this chapter written before the controversy hit, so I forced myself to finish it this week. I do have every intention of finishing this story. It is my favorite story that I have written, and I love Farmie Armie and orphan Timmy. I will be taking a bit of a break, but I will return to it.
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments here, and encouragement on Instagram. It is all much appreciated. And I appreciate and love this fandom with my whole heart.
> 
> This chapter isn't as thoroughly edited as some of my others. Forgive any errors.

Chapter Thirteen

After dinner, just as he had the night before, Armie retired to the bedroom to give Timmy some privacy to call Pauline. He had just settled onto the bed with his copy of _The Pelican Brief_ when Timmy’s head appeared at the door.

“She wants to talk to you,” he said, a bit apologetically.

“Really? I would love to talk to your sister,” Armie reassured him, setting his book down and climbing off the bed.

“Well… I wouldn’t get too excited yet.” He lowered his voice as they entered the kitchen, the phone waiting on the kitchen counter. “I think she kind-of wants to interrogate you.”

A huff of laughter escaped from Armie’s mouth. He had dealt with his mother, Auntie Maeve, and Mr. Paulson in the last week. He could certainly deal with Timmy’s big sister.

He grabbed the receiver from the counter. “Hello, this is Armie.”

A strong female voice answered him on the line. “Armie. So _you’re_ the hot farmer who has convinced my brother to ditch his dreams of returning to New York to stay and pick hay?”

Armie opened his mouth to answer, but Pauline continued. “I’m _kidding._ But seriously…” Her voice was suddenly low and determined. “Please listen. My brother has been through fucking hell in the last few years. I need to know from you that you’re going to watch over him and take care of him and make sure that _nothing else_ shitty happens to him. Can you guarantee that to me? Because if you can’t, and you let _anything_ happen to him, I swear to god I will come to Vermont and find you.”

Armie was taken aback by Pauline’s words, never having had a protective older sibling. He glanced over at Timmy, who was chewing on a hang nail, watching Armie nervously.

When it was clear that Pauline was done, he spoke. “I am so happy to speak with you, Pauline. And yes, I want nothing more than to keep your brother safe and happy. You and I share the exact same concerns and feelings. I asked him to stay because I care about him deeply. And I… I think he feels the same.” 

He looked over at Timmy again, who was still biting his nail, but with a small, pleased smile across his face. There was silence on the other end and Armie worried that perhaps their connection had been lost. But then he heard Pauline sigh, and then another sound, almost like she was choking back a sob.

When she finally spoke, her voice was thick. “I’m glad to hear that. I just worry _so fucking much_ about him, Armie. After our aunt kicked him out and then I didn’t hear from him for a few weeks… fuck, I thought the worst. I can’t tell you what a relief it was to find out that he was on a farm, with a real job and a warm, safe place to sleep. And now I’m hearing that on top of all that, he’s in love. It’s a lot to digest. So just please… take care of him.”

Armie’s eyes welled up as he realized how much pain and worry Pauline’s tough words had been hiding. “I will. I promise. And I can’t wait to meet you in person.”

“Me, too.”

Armie handed the phone back to Timmy. He mouthed the words, _that was okay,_ and Timmy mouthed back, _thank you._ Armie smiled again, and returned to the bedroom.

He was almost asleep by the time he heard Timmy slip into the bathroom to brush his teeth. A few minutes later, he was crawling into his favorite spot as Armie’s little spoon.

“You talked for a long time,” Armie observed.

“She wanted to hear every detail about you. Like, _every_ detail.”

“And she still wants to meet me?”

“More than ever,” Timmy whispered back. Armie tugged him even tighter to his chest as he fell into a deep, contented sleep.

*****

The week went by typically, with some subtle differences. Armie began to teach Timmy more of the inner workings of the farm, such as where equipment was stored, and how it was cleaned and maintained. He showed Timmy how he kept track of customers and deliveries on his accounting ledger, and he let Timmy take over the care of the barn animals, since he seemed to have an affinity for them. Finally, their rule of not mixing work and pleasure slowly grew looser and looser. Eventually Armie amended it to no _public_ displays of affection, but when they were on the farm or in the truck, neither man could stop themselves.

At bedtime, despite Armie’s admission that he was ready for sex, things still moved slowly. Most nights, they would fall into bed exhausted, and were happy to pleasure each other with their hands and mouths. Timmy wanted more, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up again.

Armie reached out to his brother to figure out when he could come for a few nights. His brother worked as an attorney in a town an hour away from Armie, and also had little contact with his mother. When Armie spoke, it was apparent that he didn’t know about Timmy. Armie considered telling him over the phone, but decided that was a conversation better to have in person. After some discussion, it was planned that Victor would come the following weekend and stay for three nights. That would give Timmy and Armie time to get extra harvesting done and double up on deliveries for a few days. It was all taken care of.

Thursday night, Armie and Timmy were cleaning up dinner when they heard sound of a vehicle crunching the gravel in front of the house. Viktor had arrived. Timmy glanced up at Armie nervously; the last time he had met a member of Armie’s family, it hadn’t gone well. Armie assured Timmy that Viktor was a good guy, even though they weren’t particularly close.

“It will be fine. I promise,” Armie reiterated. He threw down the dish towel he’d been holding and headed outside, with Timmy close behind.

A thin man with little resemblance to Armie was pulling his suitcase out of the backseat of a newer model BMW. He looked up when the front door opened.

“Armie!” He slammed the door shut and dragged his suitcase over the gravel to grab his brother into a hug. “Good to see you.”

He glanced over at Timmy, a look of surprise on his face. Armie stepped aside. “This is Timmy. He is staying here, helping me out around the farm.”

Armie had every intention of telling Viktor everything, but not before he even got in the house. Timmy and Viktor shook hands.

“Can I take that for you?” Timmy asked, nodding towards his suitcase.

“Sure, Thanks,” Viktor replied, following the two men into the house. “I didn’t realize you had someone staying here with you, Armie. Should I take the couch tonight?”

Realization dawned on Armie--sleeping arrangements. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would all be in the house together for one night. He sighed, realizing that he would have to tell Viktor about Timmy now.

“No, it’s fine. You’ll have the guest room.” Armie walked over to the couch. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

Viktor shrugged. “Sure. It’s your house, Armie.”

The men settle onto the couch just as Timmy re-appeared from the guest room. “Hey Timmy, do you mind getting us a few beers from the fridge?”

Timmy grabbed a few cold bottles then stood next to Armie, unsure of what he should do. “Do you want me to stay… or….”

Viktor’s eyes darted between them, as if suddenly picking up on their relationship. He shifted uncomfortably, taking a sip of his beer.

“Why don’t you go read or practice guitar for a few minutes? Is that okay?” Armie felt bad asking Timmy to leave, but knew that it would be easier to have this conversation without him present.

Timmy nodded, pausing for a moment because normally he would kiss Armie before leaving the room. He knew that he couldn’t do that now, but the impulse was still there for a few second before he turned on his heels and headed to the bedroom.

As soon as he was gone, Viktor turned to Armie. “So is Timmy your… boyfriend?”

Cutting right to the chase, that was Viktor. Armie steeled himself; here went nothing. “He is. He lives here with me. Mom knows and has basically disowned me. I’m sure dad knows, too, but I haven’t heard from him. Actually, half the town knows.” Armie sighed. “And now you know.”

Viktor nodded, taking another long sip of his beer. “I had a feeling after Beth died that this might happen.”

Armie leaned forward the slightest bit. Even though they weren’t very close, his brother’s opinion mattered to Armie. “And?”

Viktor shrugged. “And, nothing. I don’t get it, but I guess I don’t have to, right? If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. Timmy looks really young, though.”

“He’s 18, but he’s been through a lot. He knows what he wants, and luckily, he wants me.”

“And you’re going to New York with him?”

Armie nodded. “Yup. We’ll tell you the whole story tonight.” Armie stood up to retrieve Timmy from the bedroom and grab them a few more beers. “I’d rather Timmy tell it with me. You drinking Labatts or Pabsts?”

“Labatts, of course. I can’t wait to hear about it.”

****

An hour-and-a-half and several beers later, Viktor had heard the PG version of Armie and Timmy’s entire story. He had taken a liking to Timmy, and when they headed off to bed, he drunkenly confided that he would consider him a brother in spirit, if not in law. Timmy’s heart warmed at his words.

Timmy and Armie packed their bags for the morning. They planned on leaving right after an early breakfast to be at the hotel by lunch. Armie offered to put them up in a nicer hotel than Timmy could ever afford, and they were both eager to sleep (or _not sleep_ ) in a king-sized hotel bed.

Timmy was practically buzzing with nervousness and excitement as they got ready for bed. He sat on top of the covers, too keyed-up to even lie down.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to get to sleep tonight, Armie.”

Armie slid next to him on the bed, laying his head on Timmy’s shoulder. “What are you most excited about? What is the first thing you want to do?”

Timmy ran his fingers through Armie’s hair, thinking about his question. “Well, see Pauline, of course. And a few of my friends. I’m not sure if I want to go to our old building or not. It might just be too upsetting. But I do want to hit a few of my favorite spots, like maybe get breakfast at the Galaxy Diner, or a slice from Joe’s. Oh, and a pierogi from Veselka! I just want to eat the entire time we are there.”

Armie chuckled, his head vibrating on Timmy’s chest. “Sounds like a plan. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it. But you’ll have to explain to me what a pierogi is. Now shut off the light and come down here. We need to sleep.”

Timmy leaned way over to turn off the light, the scooted down on the bed to fold himself into Armie’s tight embrace. After what felt like an eternity, he finally fell asleep, dreaming of New York.

*****

The next morning was a flurry of activity. Timmy made breakfast for the three men while Armie took Viktor out to the barn to show him how to feed the animals and where the chicken coop was. They returned to have a quick meal of cheese and tomato omelets (Timmy’s new specialty) and some coffee, then loaded up the truck with their luggage and some snacks. Viktor gave Armie a quick hug then turned to Timmy to shake his hand.

“It was great meeting you, Timmy. Truly. I think you’re good for this farm, and I think you’re good for this big guy right here,” he said with a grin, slapping Armie on the chest.

Timmy returned the smile. “He’s been good for me, too, Viktor. Believe me.”

Timmy and Armie gave Archie a final pet goodbye, then climbed into the cab of the truck and were off. Timmy pulled out the map and turned on the radio. “Here we go!” he almost shouted with giddiness.

“Here we go,” Armie repeated. Their first trip together. Their first time sleeping anywhere but the farm. _Their first adventure of many_. Armie was feeling a bit giddy himself.

They took off down a maze of Vermont country roads, making their way eventually to route 87 South, which would take them all the way to Manhattan. Timmy turned up the radio when a hip-hop song he loved came on, and propped his feet up on the dashboard. It was early still, and the sun was just coming up over the side of Killington mountain.

Timmy sighed in pure contentment. “I never thought I would get this,” he admitted.

Armie looked away from the road for a moment to check in on him. “Get what?”

Timmy paused. “All of this. Going back to New York. Having someone in my corner. The possibility of a future.” He looked directly at Armie. “Having someone to love who loves me back.” He looked out the window again, at the passing dairy farms. “All of it.”

*****

The skyscrapers of Manhattan came into view four hours later, as they were completing the last leg of their trip before they entered the city through Yonkers. Timmy sat up, bouncing in his seat with excitement.

“There it is, Armie! We’re almost there! Oh my god, I haven’t seen this city in almost three fucking year.” His voice broke with emotion. “I’m realizing now how much I’ve missed it…”

Traffic slowed as they approached the city. Timmy had money for tolls ready and Armie had to admit feeling a little nervous driving into the metropolitan area. He was used to getting stuck behind tractors, not getting cut-off by speeding cab drivers.

They crossed the Henry Hudson bridge then headed down the westway. The Hudson River was flowing on their right, and the city was growing on their left. Timmy began pointing out the landmarks that he knew—parks where he used to play basketball, a museum he went to as a kid, the tops of the buildings of Columbia where some of his friends were students. At one point, he pointed over the trees that hid much of the city from view from the road.

“You can’t see if from my here, but my high school was just over those trees. La Guardia.” Armie glanced over but only saw treetops. Timmy settled back in his seat, a far-off look on his face.

Armie reached over and caressed his knee. “Some of this is going to be hard, Timmy. Let me know if you ever need a minute. It’s okay if parts of this makes you feel sad.”

Timmy covered Armie’s hand with his own. “Thank you.” He perked up a bit. “Oh, this is it! This is the turn… we’re basically in Hell’s Kitchen!”

He fell silent, taking in the busy crowded neighborhood outside the truck window. “Fuck, Armie. I’m home.”

****

A few minutes later, they had finally completed the tedious stop-and-go journey through Hell’s Kitchen and then Times Square and were pulling up to the front entrance of the Marriot Marquis hotel. Timmy had insisted they stay there, but hadn’t yet told Armie exactly why.

“It’s right in the heart of everything. And it has a revolving restaurant on top! You will love it, I promise.”

Timmy seemed so excited at the prospect of staying there that Armie decided to splurge on it, even though it was over his planned budget. Armie handed his truck keys the valet and they grabbed their bag. The noise of the city was jarring to Armie, as he was used to the quiet and tranquility of the farm. The smell of gas fumes and grilled onions hung thick in the air; a police car flew by, its siren blaring. A pang of nerves shot up Armie’s spine—he was completely out of his element. He shook off the feeling to focus of Timmy… the reason he was here.

Armie followed Timmy into the lobby, a huge, crowded space that was open in the middle, a dozen or more floors up. Armie tilted his head back to take it all in. Glass elevators sped up and down the inside of the lobby, and guestroom doors lined the inner perimeter of the hotel. Timmy took Armie’s hand and squeezed it.

“Come on, let’s check in.”

This was only the third time in his 23-years that Armie had even stayed at a hotel. The last time had also been in New York City with Beth, but they had stayed at a budget motel in a questionable neighborhood. This was a different experience entirely.

A few minutes later they were checked in, their two keys, a map of Manhattan, and a subway schedule in hand. As they waited for the elevator, Timmy turned to Armie with a mischievous smile. 

“So,” he started, “there is a reason that I wanted to stay at this particular hotel….”

Armie cocked an eyebrow and waited, intrigued.

“My first kiss was on one of these elevators when I was 15, and it was a _disaster_. I told the girl it wasn’t my first kiss, and I think she was expecting something better. We both ended up embarrassed and didn’t speak for the rest of the year.”

Armie grinned as he realized what Timmy had in mind. The elevator arrived and the door slid open with a ding. “And you want to replace that traumatizing experience with something better?” he asked pulling Timmy inside.

“Very much,” Timmy answered, pressing the number 44 for their floor.

“That can be arranged,” Armie answered happily, pressing Timmy against the wall of the elevator then leaning down to capture his lips in a soft but passionate kiss. Armie wanted to deliver a kiss for Timmy to remember. A kiss to erase the memory of that other awkward moment from Timmy’s brain forever. Armie dragged his tongue across Timmy’s lips, then pushed it into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Timmy tugged at Armie’s belt loops, pulling him in closer, rolling his hips against Armie’s pelvis. Just as Armie was starting to get worried that the ride might turn R-rated, the elevated dinged. They had arrived at their floor.

Armie pulled away and looked into Timmy’s glassy eyes. Timmy whined in displeasure at the withdrawal of Armie’s lips from his own. Armie smirked. “Better now?”

Timmy nodded once, then grabbed his duffel with one hand and pulled Armie with his other. “Let’s go see our room!”

Armie happily followed, all his apprehension about this adventure now erased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think all of you already know that the first kiss story is true! There is an adorable video of Timmy talking about it. Google Timothee first kiss if you want to watch.
> 
> Also, please forgive me for stopping before they had hotel sex. Next chapter, I promise!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think with a comment!


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